Playing with Wolves
by Girlaremo
Summary: Not many people think about the magical world living around them. Werewolves are far from one's normal life...or is it? When stoic man Lars becomes incorporated into Emma's life, how long will it take for Emma to wonder the mystery behind this man? Will she be too far in before she realizes she may be in danger? [Werewolf AU NedBel] (Read Author's Note!) [Rated T]
1. Prologue: A Letter

_Prologue: A letter to the reader_

_To whom it may concern, or anyone that has started reading this memoir, I would like you to imagine something for me for a minute. _

_Imagine the one person or thing that you love most. Your lover, your mother, your father—the one person you know you could not live without. They're so special to you, aren't they? You would risk the world to bring them back, right? _

_This is how I feel about my most important person. My most special person is my boyfriend, Lars. From the moment I lay in bed after a night of drunk cuddling and lack of sex the night before, I knew that he was something wonderful. From his unbreakable stance to the fine wisps of his hair that escape the confines of the hair gel he uses, he is the most beautiful thing that I believe I have seen. _

_Now, imagine your special person again. You still love, them, right?_

_Imagine someone taking them away. Imagine your special person has devised a spider web of lies tied all the way back to themselves so they know that if anything happens, they can just crash through the middle and tear everything down, allowing you to be safe. Imagine that you can't see them again. They give you pictures and a zip drive full of videos for you to remember them by, and maybe a few hints to where things of theirs might be hidden. It's painful to have these things, and not your special person, correct? Your special person gives you a number that's out of the country, somewhere cold. What do you do? Call the long distance number or just wallow in your self-pity and move on after a few months? _

_What would you do for love? How far would you go in the name of love? _

_Would you break apart the world itself with your bare hands for love?_

_Would you risk your own life for the sake of being with your loved one?_

_All these things are questions I have been asked for a long time._

_I will find out how far my love carries me, and how far it will go._

_19 March 20XX _

_-Emma Peeters _

…

… …

…

The night before had been a blur. Just flashes of images that Emma couldn't quite remember. As she lay in bed that following morning, she recollected what had went on. She had finally convinced herself that she was ready to go out to the bar to drink. She'd call a friend and go to a club, but it never worked past that moment in time. All her friends were out on winter break still, and they probably wouldn't return her calls anyways, because they were too busy to really care about Emma anyways. She remembered that two drinks in she had been approached by a handsome man with a familiar accent. Dutch, she decided. He bought her two more of what she had been drinking, and a couple shots of gin.

She watched him closely, trying to make sure that he didn't slip her anything in her drink, but things spiraled after the fifth mixed drink that they shared, both of them were giggling and hanging on each other. He called her cute and took a sip of her vodka and grenadine, yet she just laughed in his face and took the compliment, along with his arm around her waist. Both of them were trashed enough to hobble back to Emma's apartment to have the handsome man strip to his underwear and wander to her bedroom and flop on the bed, only to have Emma follow after. She remembered the bed was warm with him in it, and he had such a nice face when he slept.

As thoughts started to bubble up to more recent events, she slowly opened her eyes, expecting to see an empty bed. When the man from last night was still there, she was surprised to see his half-awake stare meet hers. "Good morning...I thought you would have left by now. Most guys do, anyways."

"I wouldn't leave without saying thank you for such a nice bed. This is more comfortable than the one at my apartment...This isn't a memory foam bed, is it?"

Emma honestly didn't know what kind of mattress it was. She picked it up at a yard sale. It was new when she bought it, so she just bought the bed frame and the mattress for one hundred and forty five Euros. Sheets and Christmas lights came with holiday clearance, so all in all, it was just a cheap but good bed. "I don't think it is. It's good for me, though." The woman replied, shrugging her shoulders. "But you're welcome for the night's rest."

He opened his eyes a bit more, hazel meeting the curious emerald orbs of the Belgian woman. "Hn...I think it's even better seeing who I slept with." He seemed relaxed still, looking at her with an expression of interest. "I didn't catch your name last night..."

"Emma." She offered a smile, pulling the t-shirt she slept in down a bit. "I bet I could guess your name..." With a bit of an exaggerated thoughtful expression, she crinkled her nose, pursing her lips. "You look like...a Lyon type of guy...but I hardly think that's the right name, right?"

"You were just a few letters off. Try Lars." The other propped himself up in the bed, running a few fingers through his flat hair. Looking in the dresser mirror on the other end of the room, he flopped back down with a defeated sigh. "Not sure I like your name for me. If I'm Lyon, you look more like a Bella."

"Ew..." Emma snorted, crinkling her nose again. "I'm Belgian, not Italian...you could have come up with a better fitting name. I'm not a 'Bella donna', Sir Lars."

Mimicking her snort, he rolled over onto his side again, tilting his head with a slight smile tugging at his lips. "You know, if you give me a title, you might as well use the full name. It sounds better as 'Sir Lars Van Dijk'."

"Ooh, you sound like such an aristocrat." The woman chuckled, not moving from her side position. "You make me sound like a Plain Jane, Sir Lars Van Dijk. Would the sir like some breakfast with Miss Emma Peeters?"

"I think he would. Right after he gets his clothes off the floor. It's unmodest to blatantly show one's underwear around a woman." Well, he had a point. With a bit of a grunt, she rolled out of bed and looked around, grabbing up at least a pair of pants and a shirt for Lars, tossing them to him.

"There we go...one pair of pants and a shirt for you. I'll just go get some coffee going—You like coffee, right?"

"I actually wouldn't mind a cup. I'll be out to help make some breakfast if it doesn't bother you." He offered, turning to the side of the bed to slide on his pants, heading out after her as he buttoned up his shirt. "You do have breakfast things, right?"

"Yeah...of course I do. All sorts of breakfast things. Like pizza from last night and eggs." The pathetically cute expression paired with the small voice she used was just short of adorable. Lars didn't seem to mind as he refrained from rolling his eyes at her.

"Okay then...do you have any pancake mix?" The phrase struck a chord with Emma, and there returned the crinkled nose. "What's with that face?"

"You think I'd insult myself with having _pancake mix_?" The words slid off her tongue like oil. "Hon, I'll make you some waffles. I'll have the waffle iron warmed up before you could ask me what my original hair color is."

"...Well, what is it?"

"Blonde." She replied with a bit of a smirk, flashing a few pearly teeth. It was a good start. The eggs are in the fridge, mixer is in the cupboard above the sink...we just need the egg yolks."

Within a few minutes, the two of them were having waffles for breakfast, cooking the waffles in an old waffle iron on the stove. Coffee and the sweet smell of waffles wafted through the apartment, giving Lars a bit of time to look over the place. Seemed like a normal bachelorette pad to him, give or take the scenic view. There were a couple messes in the sink, but he couldn't expect too much. "You live alone here, right?"

"I used to have a roomate, but she moved out because she couldn't handle me getting up in the morning. I work a job in the morning, and she worked the night shift. As I woke up, she got to sleep, and she was a very light sleeper." She idly kept cooking, frying up a couple eggs for herself. "You want some eggs? I'd offer bacon, but I ate that after the last episode of Doctor Who I watched recently."

"You like that kind of stuff?" He inquired, curious about her now. "What kind of day job to you work, though?"

"I'm a teacher for an elementary school. I'm a kindergarten teacher, so I get to work with all the little kids." She smiled, glancing back at him. "You didn't answer me, though. Eggs, or no?"

"No thanks, waffles are just fine for me." Poking at the fresh fruit on top, he picked up one of the strawberries and smelled it. Not as fresh as he'd like, but still good.

"What about you? You live and work around here, right?" She wasn't doing so great at frying her eggs, as she felt like he was staring at her sleep pants. There was a hole in the butt, but that was probably besides the point.

"I live downtown in my own apartment. I work at a shipping company all day." That explained the rippling muscles he had...Emma had admired that aspect of him as soon as she opened her eyes. "Hard labor works out...it gets the job done."

Oh, it sure did... "You think you'd want to go out some other time for lunch or dinner? Maybe on the weekend because I've got work all week and such..." She proposed, turning around to look at the other. "It wouldn't be much, just maybe a pizzaria visit. There's a good one down town that some of my girl friends and I like. You'd enjoy it- The dough is so fresh, and they grate the cheese on the pizza right as it goes in."

"Mm...Maybe I should call you and recommend some of the restaurants that I enjoy."

"Don't tell me it's a burger joint."

"It's not a burger joint." He smiled a bit, propping his head up on his fists. "It's actually a very nice sit-down restaurant that serves lots of different food and wines. It's a town over from here, but it's worth the drive."

"...I can't drive."

"I'll have to pick you up, then. Next Saturday at seven?"

Wait, was this already happening? Emma beamed and leaned against the counter, tilting her head. "Um...sure. Fancy dress, or what?" She asked.

"Something mildly dressy. It's a four star place, so I'd recommend slacks and dress," He offered, picking up another bit of waffle. "I'm sure that if you look this good in the morning, you'll have me star stuck by Saturday."

"Ah ha ha ha—You're hilarious." She sighed, rolling her eyes at the Dutchman. "You're just so set on telling me nice things."

"Well, I don't see anyone else telling you nice things, so I thought I'd do that for you." Lars replied, smiling a bit less. "Plus, it's mostly truth."

"Mostly?"

"Just mostly." The breakfast was good throughout the whole morning. It ended up that Emma gave Lars the extra waffles she had made because he liked them so well. He left with all his clothes...except for the tie that had been strung up by the television. She took it gently between her fingers, looking at the silvery pattern on the black silk. This must have cost so much...to get such a smoky pattern on silk was difficult.

"Wow...I bet he'll come back for this...I can just give it to him before we go to dinner next weekend..." She sighed, curiously sniffing the fabric. It smelled...musky. Sweet, with a bit of a bite to it as well. It was like smelling mens cologne with roses and cinnamon. Nah, maybe she'd keep this. It'd be creepy though to keep a tie... "I could keep weirder things guys would leave...At least he didn't leave underwear." The thought lingered in her mind longer than it should have, but then again, who wouldn't want to think about attractive men without underwear on? Emma would absolutely think of that.


	2. Chapter 1: Anniversary

**Rewrite of the Chapter**

_Note to Readers: I read over the chapter, and I've decided I don't like this version...I don't know why, but I really think I'd like to redo this, so here it is._

It had started like any other morning. Lars slowly woke up to hands running through his hair, slowly opening his eyes to see that Emma was half awake, messing with the straw-coloured strands. "...Why must you do that...?" He muttered, removing one hand, only to kiss her knuckles with a light smile.

"You told me you like that, so why not? Anyways, waking you up like that gives better results." She replied, scooting over to him to get possibly a bit more warmth. One thing she loved about Lars, other than him overall, was that he was oddly warm. He usually ran a bit warm, and it gave just the perfect finish to a night on the couch snuggled up in a blanket. "Happy Anniversary, though. I thought I wouldn't remember, but it popped into my head this morning when I woke up."

"It is, isn't it?" Lars was counting down the days until she forgot, but she didn't, in the end. That was surprising...sometimes Emma was a bit of a scatter brain, so she would need reminding here and there. "We should do something special then, yeah? Do you want to go out to dinner?" At that, Emma made an odd face, crinkling her nose and stuck out her tongue a bit.

"We've been to every place in Antwerp...I don't really want to go out tonight..." She sighed, letting he heaving in her chest decompress into another breath. "Why don't we dine in and you can stay another night? It'd be nice if we both cooked something, right?"

"Mm...I've got a bit extra on my paycheck, too...we could get something nice and make good food..." He replied, smiling with the corners of his mouth. "Something tells me steak would be nice...and you could make some little girly salad for yourself while I eat yours, too..."

Emma beamed and sat up, gently 'booping' him with the pillow she had been laying on. "You are _not_ eating my steak. I've been saving that in the freezer, and I've almost cooked it without you. Twice."

"You what?" Lars's expression went from coy to faux surprise and hurt. "You wouldn't eat those without me, would you? Truly?" He did this little thing that looked like he was about to cry, but with his stoic face, he looked like an absolutely pathetic baby. Emma could only snort and pull the blankets up over her lacy camisole and stare.

"You're just...you're something else, Lars Van Dijk. I've yet to figure out what exactly." She shook her head and lay back down, laying her head on his arm. "For now, you're still a keeper."

"I'm also hungry. We could add that to the list if we're keeping track of the names associated with me." He shrugged, kissing her forehead lightly.

"Smartass."

"That's a good one, too. We'll put that on the list." He added, smiling widely at her slight faux annoyance.

After the first night Lars and Emma had met, Lars had stayed with Emma night after night. They went on their dates, and it wandered up to this point where they were at their third anniversary. Three years, and Lars still hadn't moved in. "...You think you could actually live over here instead of taking the bus every day here and there? I mean...it'd be closer to work for you, so you wouldn't have to go as far. I'd help you move your stuff over here...speaking of your place, I haven't been over there for a while."

"Nothing's changed. I did get a new sink handle, though. The other one was a bit off, so I finally got the nerve to change it." He admitted, picking up a couple strands of her golden blonde hair and twirled it between his fingers. "So...back to the original topic...we're having steak tonight...? A salad could go well with that...along with side dish and desert."

"I'll make the side dish and salad if you cook the steak and make dessert. You'll get bonus points if it's chocolate." She smiled, finding her eyes wandering to a little scar that Lars had. It had been there as long as she and him had been together, and it looked a bit deeper than a normal scar that would have been stitched up.

"You're staring again." He said quietly, gaining her eyes on his once again. "Why does that fascinate you so much? It's just a scar." Lars breathed, reaching up to scratch a little unknown itch right in the general area of the previous wound.

"You never told me where you got it from, so I've been thinking about how you could have gotten it." She said simply, deciding that it was time to get out of bed and actually get dressed to go out shopping. "You threw your clothes everywhere again..." She mumbled, pulling one of the blankets off to cover her naked rear.

"How couldn't I? We were going fast enough I didn't know where I was throwing things." He looked up only to find he had thrown Emma's panties upward, and the ceiling fan had caught them. "...At least I didn't jam up the ceiling fan again."

The Belgian laughed and continued on to the bathroom, throwing Lars's pants at him. "Just get dressed. You've got some clothes here that you left." She called, pulling some gently used clothes out of the hamper and started the shower. It wouldn't take long for her to get ready, and then they'd be out in another blissful day in Antwerp. Just a trip to the open market, then back home wouldn't be too much at all.

Lars dressed and straightened his hair up in the bathroom mirror while Emma showered, using the 'Guest Toothbrush' that Emma provided him to brush his teeth as well. The Dutchman's pearly white teeth weren't perfect, to be honest. There were a couple chipped teeth he needed to get after, and a few of his teeth were crooked in the sides of his mouth. But overall, he looked almost like a businessman with his 'Old Man' way of dressing, as Emma called it, and his build was that of a football player. Emma told him that he could play for the World Cup for the Dutch team if he wanted to, but he declined and continued to watch football with her.

While Emma was in the shower and did a bit of makeup, Lars was thinking of what he could make. He could take a couple recipes from his friend Kiku and make milk pudding and call it good...Yeah, he'd do that. He'd make Emma one with chocolate in the middle, and one with strawberries in the middle for himself. Lars wasn't a fan of chocolate as it was, but strawberry was alright.

"Lars, you'd be fine with watching the game tonight while we eat, right? My hometown's playing against Sweden tonight, and I really want to see them whoop some ass." She said, pulling the shower curtain to look at him with a smile. "Your team's playing Spain again after the first Belgium-Sweden game, by the way."

"Ooh yay, football on our anniversary—just like last year, save for the fact that we missed the match because _someone _wanted to get the expensive special that they had run out of so they had to make her a new batch of some tomato-basil soup."

"Look, that soup was to die for, and you liked it, too. Even if you don't like tomato soup." Emma argued, sticking her tongue out like the five year-olds she dealt with at her job. "Anyways, I got a nice soup cup out of that deal anyways."

"Mn...Are you almost done in there anyways? You're using up all the hot water in the appartment." Lars teased, filling up a cup with cold water and waited for her to close the curtain and mumble something about him something in Flemish or something—he didn't know because the next thing he did was pour the cold water on her in the shower and ran out of there like a bat out of Hell.

* * *

"You know, you're lucky I like you enough to not scream and yell at you for doing that little cold water trick." Emma huffed, finally getting herself out of the shower and into some clothes to head out in. A pair of warm leggings, a nice little dainty pinkish dress, and her normal everyday wear coat and a scarf that looked a bit like what Lars wore most the time. It wasn't really blue and white—it was more so red and white instead of the Dutchman's blue and white.

"If yelling is the worst thing you could do, I would have stayed in the bathroom. Knowing you, you'd try to throw the soap and shampoo bottles at me." He shrugged, continuing his longer strides while Emma took at least two steps to try and compensate for Lars's long legs. Each of them held their own grocery bags—One with a bit of heavy cream, fresh strawberries and chocolate, and a can of all spice for Lars, and Emma had picked up some fresh produce to make mashed something or rather. It was a habit of Emma's to just boil a bunch of vegetables and make mashed mixed vegetables just like her family used to do. Usually consisted of cauliflower, turnips, potatoes and sometimes carrots and sweet potatoes. Lord knew she had a lot of vegetables on the brink of being tossed out, so this would be as good as any time to actually get those used up.

"Smartass." As they walked along, there were a few more things that Emma picked up on impulse, saying that she actually needed a new frying pan, or that she really needed this nifty kitchen gadget that looked more like a lime squeezer than a potato ricer. When they did get off of market street and started heading back home, Lars couldn't help but to feel a bit on edge. It was strange, really. He looked behind them and furrowed his brows, seeing a familiar face behind them. "What are you looking at back there? Someone following us?"

"...Friend of mine." He said quietly, picking up the pace a bit. He mentally cringed when the man following them called for Lars, obligating him to stop and say hello back. "Well, what hole did you dig yourself out of this time?"

"Oh, just a little ditch on the side of the road. I actually came over to try and pay you a visit, but your house was locked and your answering machine left me a mean little message." The man had a bit of a more tan complexion, and he looked like he didn't really fit in Antwerp...or Belgium for that matter. His voice was tinted with a bit of a more southern accent. Spanish. From Spain.

"Oh, about that...that's not just everyone's answering machine message. That one's just for you." Lars smirked a bit, holding Emma a bit closer. "The question still stands: What do you want?"

"Aren't you going to introduce him, Lars? You're being a bit rude..." Emma pointed out, offering her hand to the Spaniard. "I'm Emma, it's nice to meet you."

"I'm Antonio, but Lars seems to call me other names that are a bit more rude." He chuckled, taking Emma's hand and kissed the back of it. Looking back up at Lars, he couldn't help but to keep smiling as the Dutchman glared a bit. "Back to the business side...I just wanted to tell Lars that a few more people are coming around to visit. They thought it would be nice to see how he's doing."

"Well, that's nice of them...I didn't know you had so many friends." Emma beamed, looking up to the other. "Maybe we should all go out and eat dinner or somethi—"

"Thank you, Antonio...I'll go ahead and clean up the place a bit and have them over sometime." Lars sighed, glancing to his groceries. "You and I can go and have coffee at nine tomorrow if you wanted to catch up a bit."

"That'd actually be great—I'll pick you up at eight." The Spaniard smiled. "Your cell phone number is still the same, right?"

"That's right. Now off with you. We've got to get going." Lars waved and turned away, getting a look from Emma. "What?"

"Are you always that rude to your friends?" She asked, puffing her cheeks out a bit. "I'm not upset that we couldn't all get together, but you just seem like a bit of a dick to your friend right there."

"I've known him for a long time, and he understands my dry and sarcastic humour towards him." Lars explained, slowing down the walking pace for a bit, just walking leisurely instead of in a hurried pace. "I'm not like that to everyone, though."

"That's good to know...I wouldn't want you treating everyone like an ass." Emma's good mood declined into something along the lines of annoyance and slight distaste for a bit, checking her phone and such to avoid talking to him for the short time it took to get home. "I'll get started on dinner...it's already three o clock...that's a bit of a waste of a day, hunh?"

"It would be better if you didn't sleep in all day, you know. More time to do things if you got up early and went to bed early." Lars noted, watching as Emma got to the door first to let both of them in. It didnt' take long for Emma to sling her purse in the general direction of the couch and tossed her coat in the same direction, only for Lars to pick the articles up and put them on the coat rack that he brought to her house and then placed his coat on the opposite side of hers to even it out.

"But I really don't like getting up early..." She whined, digging around for a pair of aprons in the linen drawer. "But I'll do it when I have work, though. That's different, though. I'm waking up to do something I like."

"You actually like doing school for children. I mean...that's some of my least favourite things right there. Put those two together and..." He stopped when he saw Emma's face, stern as ever and staring at Lars with an expression of 'Keep going. I dare you.'. "...If you were there, I think I'd be able to brave it."

"Good boy. Now can you put on an apron and turn on the television? I wanna see England get smothered." She said with a smile, pulling out all the things she needed from the refrigerator, pulling out a couple knives to chop everything up. "We'll get all of this started and we'll have time to watch the rest of the game..." Emma hummed, listening for the sound of the narrator on the T.V.

With the sound in the background and the two of them talking, it didn't take much time to get the oven working and the whole kitchen area was extremely warm. Lars had folded up one of the kitchen towels and wrapped it around his head, making a bit of a sweat barrier and a glorious chance for Emma to take a picture of that—which she did. Said picture became her background on her phone.

Just about the time that the Belgium-Sweden game came on, everything was just about finished up in the kitchen. Just as the opening ceremony for the came started, the players were coming on the screen and thus started Emma's commentary. "I hear that the Swedish team has a few people that are absolutely amazing...Like that Oxenstierna man. He's gone all season without any serious injuries, and he's seriously fast. Looks like a brick wall, runs as fast as a rabbit."

"Eh...I'm not really a fan. I'm more interested in the romance that he's got with the retired Finnish player. Tino? Aren't they getting married or something?" Lars questioned, just as the screen flashed the image of the smiling Finn...with his arm in a blue and yellow cast. He looked seriously happy, though. "...Is it just me, or is Berwald limping?"

"Probably just a little bit too much stretching?" With Emma leaning on the counter as Lars set the table, everything was almost done. "...I'm starting to wonder if he got injured..." Creeping closer to the living room area, she sat herself down on the couch and started watching. Not even after the first quarter, the referee had signalled for a time out due to a sighting of blood on the playing field. "Holy shit, he's bleeding?" Lars strode over to lean on the back of the couch, interested in the turn of events.

"Wonder what happened to him...I think they're calling out the paramedics..." He mumbled, watching the screen closely as the Swede doubled over and fell to his knees, just barely holding himself up with one arm before clothes started ripping, and in the blink of an eye where the man crouched there was a giant mass of fur, and all they could hear from the television was screaming and yelling. People in the crowd started fleeing, causing the creature to growl and howl at all the commotion. The station cut to a busy signal, the vibrant bars and stripes there to stay while they sorted out the problem.

Both Lars and Emma were trying to process what had happened, each at their own pace. Emma was trying to process what had happened to the Swedish man on the field, and what had actually gone on right then and there. Lars on the other hand was going in full fast forward. He knew what happened, now he was thinking further and further into the future. How would this affect him? Who would it affect? What was Emma thinking about this? "That...That was horrible...what happened to him? What...what was that thing?"

"Probably just...I don't know, really." He said quietly, looking over to the other, realizing that this had shook her up a whole lot more than he had expected. Emma's eyes were wide and she was holding the apron skirt so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. "...There's probably a reason, though. Maybe it's just a promotional for a new movie or something. They tend to do that sometimes, right?" He offered, trying to calm her mind of whatever was going on.

"Right...A-A promotional...that's probably it...They're on a bit of a wolf kick right now...they're probably just advertising for a movie..." She agreed, nodding a bit. Moving to get up, she suddenly turned and hugged Lars around the neck tightly, and upon that impulse, Lars hugged her back tightly, rocking from side to side like she usually did. "...Turn off the T.V...your steak's going to get too overdone and you're probably not going to eat it if it does."

"Food can wait. Just stay as long as you want." The Dutchman replied, holding the hug for as long as she needed. It ended up being a quiet dinner with a couple glasses of wine, then a Disney movie on the couch with a blanket over both of them. Lars carried Emma to bed, deciding to call into work sick for the next day. Keeping Emma close just in case of bad dreams, Lars slept lightly, only dipping into a few dreams that were more so memories of what had happened earlier in life. They were a bit more than bitter, leaving a dirty taste in his mouth when morning came.

* * *

_Everything was a bit too bright. The shades had been pulled up high, and the morning light shone in Lars's eyes as he tugged on the metal that restrained one of his hands. There was another restraint on his right leg, making it impossible to move away from the chair. Left hand restrained, he looked up to what was in front of him. "I'm glad you're awake, Lars...care for a game of chess?" There was a woman. She had long red-brown hair and stunning eyes...there was no way that someone could have eyes such a vibrant violet colour naturally. She looked dainty, but her presence itself was huge._

"_Not p-particularly...I'd like a smoke first, then I'd really care for a good long run far away from here." He said snidely, straightening up in the chair. He was almost too big for the clothes he wore. The collar of the shirt almost choked him, and the cuffs on the shirt were strangling his wrists. The tie around his neck didn't help at all, either. Shoes too small, pants too tight...it was like he was bursting out at the seams. _

"_Let me rephrase that." The woman at the other end sent a knee-splitting kick under the table, barely shaking the tea set and the chess board on top. Lars emitted a sharp growl, rows of pearly teeth showing through the bit of pain and annoyance he felt. "We're playing chess. You make your move first and focus this time. If you do well, I will let you have a cigarette...even though they're terrible and reek of death."_

"_Whatever you say, woman..." Names weren't clear in his mind yet. He couldn't focus. There were too many things going on. He had no clue how he got here. Why was he here? Who was she? She was constantly telling him to focus and telling him to behave. But he was so restless. He wanted to run. It came to the point where her yelling at him was to much and he broke the arm of the chair, then the leg and flipped the table over, only to be face to face with a massive wolf, teeth bared and snarling. It lunged forward and—_

_... ... ... _


	3. Chapter 2: Trouble in Paradise

_Author's Note: Hello all! I redid the previous chapter, so remember to read back through that if anything—someone brought it to my attention that the chapter didn't flow very well, and it was overall not very good quality. (I doubt the previous one is any better, but...) without further ado, here's the next chapter~_

* * *

Maybe it was that she couldn't sleep to start with. Every time she did fall asleep, she could see those jaws coming closer and closer, ripping through everything she loved. Her family by the ocean, her friends from college, and Lars. Lars was always the worst. Right when the jaws were coming close enough to get at her, he would always be there right in front of her, and right before the teeth ripped him in half, she would wake up. Every time, she was right in Lars's arms, completely safe.

After the third dream at one in the morning, Emma decided to stay awake instead of going back to sleep. Without moving an inch from Lars, she tried to get comfortable without waking him, ultimately unsuccessful. The Dutchman did wake up at one point, nuzzling against Emma with a heavy sigh. "I didn't mean to wake you up..." He grumbled, resting his forehead against her shoulder. It was comfortable for him, but he was a bit worried that Emma would get a kink in her neck if he weren't careful.

"Nah, it's alright...I've been awake for a few minutes...I can't sleep." She breathed, looking up to that little spot above his eyebrow before reaching up to gently run her thumb over the pinkish scar tissue. Lars didn't protest, but he wasn't pleased about it either. "...You never did tell me what happened that you got this..."

"It was an accident. I was riding in the car with my brother down a bumpy old dirt road." He said quietly, the pictures flashing through his mind as he thought of the memory. "Someone was coming along the other way towards us, and he sideswiped us...my brother lost control of the car and I got flung out of the passenger seat...my brother rolled into the ditch and the car was bent enough that he was trapped inside when somethin'..." He stopped, realizing that the memory and the story didn't quite match up in his mind. "...It was a bad accident."

"I would suppose so...You were close with your brother, right?" Maybe this was the only time that she'd be able to get a bit of background from Lars. He just gave little bits of himself when he was tired, and even then it wasn't much.

"I was very close with my brother. We were idiots and drove around all the time in my father's old beat-up automobile..." Lars trailed off as he dozed, feeling as if he needed to go back to sleep. "And by the time we got home...my mother would have had dinner done, and father would be yelling at us for taking his...v' hicle..." As Lars fell asleep, Emma couldn't help but to smile and just watch as he slept since she was unable to.

When Emma's alarm clock went off at six in the morning, she untangled herself from Lars and got ready for her class for the day, looking a bit on the tired side, but still functioning. While the day was long, Emma tried to make it through with three cups of coffee and enough chocolate from her desk to kill an elephant. In Lars's case, the Dutchman slept later than usual, missing a few calls from Antonio before he actually did get up and out the door after searching for some clothes he had left in Emma's house. Coffee was left over and in the coffee pot, and last night's leftovers were in the refrigerator, marked with a little heart on the lid of one of the containers.

Listening to the messages on his phone while he drank coffee, it seemed like the normal Antonio.

_Amigo, please pick up. I think our friends got a bit more angry with you. I've been trying to call you, but your phone's off. Please call me back._

_Lars, you missed coffee. I really need to speak to you, pronto. I hope to God they didn't find you with that girl I saw you with. Call back._

_God dammit, Lars. I'm serious here. Pick up. _

The last message was more worrying than normal. Antonio wasn't one to curse and yell at people, but when it came down to it, when he was angry, he was furious. And with the ferocity, Antonio would snap and curse. Skipping the rest of his meal, the Dutchman grabbed his coat (though he really didn't need it) and headed out after locking Emma's apartment up for the morning. With Antonio on speed dial, he rang his friend up, tone stern.

"_What the hell, you didn't answer my calls. Where were you? Are you and your bella alright?_" Antonio hissed over the line, trying to keep himself quiet. He must have been between a rock and a hard place at the moment.

"I had a really hard sleep last night. I don't know what it was, but I was extremely tired and I just—"

"_Of course you would be! If you've been out biting people, I seriously bet you would be!_" The Spaniard interjected, huffing quite loudly on the other end of the line. "_Don't you know not to bite? That's the worst things you could possibly do to yourself while you're under the radar here._"

"Who the fuck said I was biting?" Lars retorted, stopping at a considerably safe location—an alley in the middle of town. Nobody really cared, right? "I've been with Emma for the whole weekend, and I haven't gone anywhere other than my house, her house, and the market."

"_Then...you're not responsible for the Swede yesterday?_"

"I was watching the screen when it happened. Do you know what else happened?"

"_The guy attacked his fiancee. The kid's staying with his mama's family back in Finland. The poor kid is traumatized beyond all belief. Plus with the Swede running around, nobody knows who the creator is and your friends are saying that you did it because you've been under the radar for so long._" Antonio explained, seeming a bit more stressed in telling him. "_They've moved their visit up. I heard it from one of the neutral packs that they've been looking to find you again, and now that they've got your house on their map and since the attack happened, their shits and giggles time is over._"

"You're really upset about this, aren't you?" Sure it concerned Lars, but he knew how to sweet talk his way in and out of the people in question. "I'm sure it's not too different from before, and if it is, I don't have a problem working by ear."

"_I'm sure you'd get an ear cut off doing that. Playing by ear is all fun and games until someone says something wrong, and you and anyone associated with you ends up on a pike._" The cellphone reception cut out for a minute, causing Antonio to weakly curse over the line. "_Rumour has it that they're bumping up your meeting to this Thursday. Clean your house, clean everything. Don't let them see any shred of evidence that you've been around a human. Just to be clear, this is a safe line, and I swear I got myself a junker phone. Do what you must to get me out of your phone. After this...I need to hide for a bit._"

"Where are you going, Antonio?" Lars questioned, going deeper into the alley. If he went through the alleys, he could wander back to his house easily from where he was at.

"_Probably somewhere hotter than Spain. I was thinking Equador. I have relatives there, and Los Lobos there are quite friendly. I'll take Chiara with me, and we'll be fine for a while. They only go as far as Finland to Siberia if they're going to chase after you. Keep that in mind._"

"I will. Just get your things and get the hell out of Antwerp, you crazy bastard." Lars tried not to show any amusement, but he couldn't help but to let out a loud snort in the middle of the alley.

"_I'm afraid you're crazier than I am. Line up all your edges so that you've got something for your bella to fall back on. If anyone is good at making a web of lies, it's you. Adios, Amigo. It's been good._"

The phone line went dead, rendering the call to its end. It was best to destroy the phone he had now and then call Emma on one of the emergency phone lines he had set up. All the way home, he thought about how he could start up a small grassroots web of lies that would suffice. By now, it was only ten in the morning, and already things had gone downhill in just a five minute chat. Why had he slept so long? The dream itself was so short, so why did it last so long? While walking, it was a good idea to slowly take apart his phone. Keeping little bits that were full of information. The SD card, the SIM cards, and all the little bits that would have to be destroyed in a more gruesome way.

More and more lies bubbled into Lars's head when he got to his apartment, turning on one of his phones that would redirect the call from his old phone number to the new one. He may have been using black market technology, but it worked for him. With the clunky kiosk phone on, Lars had to get to work and clean everything. Floors and every surface had to be cleaned with bleach and a heavy layer of fabric freshener. Dishes were to be cleaned in boiling water, coffee cups were to be spot free, and all the sheets could either be soaked in bleach and ruined, or burnt. This meant going out and buying new sheets for his bed, but it would be worth it in the end.

Cleaning would give way to better ideas in the end. It gave him time to think, and a reason to be busy. By four in the evening when Emma got home, Lars's home was spot free, and it smelled of industral-grade sanitizer and bleach. Slacks were ruined and his hands were raw from all the deep cleaning. He would be up all night doing laundry and making sure that Emma's things weren't still in his house. Upon searching for such things, he found that one of her sweaters had made it into his dresser. It still smelled like her, and she enjoyed the sweater...so he couldn't burn it. He would have to give it back at some point without getting her scent on him.

Two zipper locked plastic bags could do the trick, and if he hid the plastic shielded wad somewhere safe, he could get by without anyone smelling it. Brilliant. There was a gap in Lars's mattress where the parcel would fit perfectly, and if the ordeal he was facing were to blow over, Lars would be able to come back and bring the parcel back to Emma.

Under all the lies and schemes and silver threads darting from one edge of Lars's priorities to the other, the bottom lines were there in heavy print:

One; Do not let them know about Emma.

Two; Do not let Emma know about them.

* * *

It was nearly eight in the evening when Lars got home, bleach spots in his denim jeans and a new coat on his shoulders. The other one smelled too much like Emma's house, so a new outfit and a burn barrel was needed. Unpacking the shopping bag, he had bought himself some simple white sheets and a new feather down blanket that was a rich dark green colour. It wasn't bad, but the pillows were expensive. Thirty dollars to replace both pillows, and to get a new roll pillow? Outrageous. They were even on sale. Lars barely got through the door of the apartment when his phone started ringing. He wasn't very happy, since he had all the bags from the store and everything had to be unwrapped—he wanted to be done as soon as possible. Hobbling his way over to the kitchen table quickly, the Dutchman dropped his bedding and pulled the phone out of his pocket. _'Emma'. _Was something wrong, or...? Maybe she was just worried. He hadn't seen her all day, too... But it went on that the phone needed answering. "Hoi, Lars speaking."

"_Lars, are you alright? I thought you said you were coming back to the apartment or something?" _Emma did seem worried, but there were noises from the television in the background, and she had a friend over. Maybe it was that one teacher that moved from France. He was nice, but Lars didn't trust him too much. There wasn't much out of the ordinary about him...so he was safe for the most part. _"I'm just a bit worried about you...that's all." _

"Yeah, I'm fine. There was a mishap at my house...I came back to check and a water main broke on my street, and I've got to stay around home to make sure they don't try to charge me money for 'repairing the house'. It's not even near my end of the block." The Dutchman laughed, picking up most of the bags with one hand, save for a different bag of groceries that he got to prepare for his 'guests'.

"_I haven't heard anything about that, but I guess they must have gotten it under control, then._" Emma sighed, taking a sip of something from a cup. _"Francis invited himself over today, so I thought I'd tell you just so you'd know."_

"Alright, just make sure you get to bed on time because you've got school tomorrow, missy." He joked, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder while he unpacked the new bedding.

"_Alright, alright..." _ She chuckled, smiling into the receiver. _"Just make sure to call me sometime just to make sure that you're alright. Hopefully your end of town gets your water main back up. That's got to suck not having any water."_

"Yeah, I'll handle it. If not, I'll be living on bottled water and trips to a bath house or something." The blanket was a bit too big, he found, but it would be alright for now. "I just got back from the laundromat, though. I had to do a load of laundry on the other side of town, so I've got to put my clothes away, alright?"

"_Oh, alright...I'll talk to you sometime tomorrow, then." _Emma sighed, holding the phone away to say something to Francis. _"Is that alright with you?"_

It was Tuesday, wasn't it? Emma _could _call, but it would be really close. "Yeah, go ahead. I've got a big meeting on Thursday, though. I can't take any calls that day, so could you please not call that day?"

"_Must be another all-day meeting...I'll make a memo to myself. I'll seeya later, then...I love you, Lars. You know that, though." _

"I love you more than you know, Em. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Get some relaxing in before you go to bed, though. And make sure that frog doesn't get too comfortable. He's probably in my spot on the couch." Lars crinkled his nose, sitting on his bed with the sheet in his hands.

"_I'll boot 'im. Just do your laundry, babe. Talk to you tomorrow, Lars." _

The line fizzled after Emma hit the end button, leaving a sour taste in Lars's mouth. Why did he feel bad just now about lying? Usually he could get away with little petty lies like this. Looking down at the sheets, Lars continued to remake the bed as he would any other day. Wednesday he would be spending the day cleaning again, making sure every little bit of the house was spot free. For now, Lars could take a decent bath after he made the bed.

Running the hot water, Lars pulled off his clothes and tossed them aside, throwing in a cup or so of Epsom Salts for muscle relaxing. It wasn't unusual for him to do so since the water main didn't really break. While the bath tub filled, Lars took a moment to look himself over. He needed a haircut soon. He could do that by himself tonight. There were still faint scratches on his back from a couple nights ago on his back, but those too would fade with a good soak in the bath. "I still look tired..." Lars sighed, running his hands through his sandy hair. "Nothing different, though. Nothing's changed."

How would he tell Emma that he used to be like the Swede? Wild, unruly, unfocused and hungry for nothing other than food and comfort? He had to admit, being a young and very new wolf meant that everything looked new and clear. Every blade of grass, every little leaf on every tree was visible. It made everything seem so much worse. Too much noise, too many smells, no closure. The best feeling was when Lars had just switched back to his human form after wandering into Germany by accident. She had come out of the forest and held her arms open to him. She looked beautiful to his sore eyes, and the woman smelled even better. Tea and some floral scent he couldn't put his finger on. He could stay for hours tucked away in her arms. Being by her side as a 'pup' meant that he followed her around silently like a ghost until they tried to tame him.

Being chained to a chair and forced to focus, set schedules for sleep and wakefulness. Learning who was the top Alpha wasn't easy either. They had cut his hair, shaved his face, and put him into long years of 'training' until he was old enough to finally escape. He changed his hair, his habits, everything. Lars was free, then. He was free from it all...until now. They had found him yet again, and he'd have to tell them that he wasn't the one who bit the Swede.

When the bathtub was filled and the salts dissolved, Lars slowly lowered himself into the water, watching as his skin started to redden after a few moments. Muscles relaxed, letting Lars finally relax from the stressful day. Starting up a mental list as he closed his eyes and relaxed with his arms over the side of the tub, the Dutchman somewhat dozed. _Dishes, coffee pot, groceries...clean couch, call Antonio...call Lukas. _


	4. Chapter 3: Secret's Out

Another day of cleaning meant more red hands and more pain to his back from kneeling the whole day. He did get to talk to Emma again later on Wednesday, but it wasn't for long. She was on lunch break, and he was busy spraying the place down with a lilac scented air freshener. So far, the place didn't smell anything like her. He couldn't smell her scent on himself, or anything in the house. Even the bedroom had a masked scent of mint and lilac bouncing around the sheets.

With everything clean and sparkling, the Dutchman sighed and sat himself up on the couch, leaning his head back with a heavy sigh. It took so much out of him to clean, even for a man his size and breed. He should wait a while before calling Antonio, he thought, so that left calling Lukas. Dialling the numbers with ease, Lars bypassed the extra charge for calling outside of the 'service area', waiting for the other to pick up. It was customary for Lukas to actually ignore Lars the first time, then pick up when he redialled after a minute or so of waiting.

"_Lukas's Body Shop, where you can wreck an a—hey!" _

"What the hell?" Lars was caught quite off guard by this answering, until Lukas came on the line, cursing at whoever was nearby. The Dutchman on the other end sat up straight, staring at the receiver of his phone. "...Who the hell was that?"

"_I'm sorry, that was an idiot that I live with. He successfully managed to fuck shit up with or without a wooden shoe." _This voice was much more calm, and actually quite soothing. _"But, I'm just here to confirm, that yes, I'm here, Lars. What can I help you with?_"

"I just need you to access some files for me and finish out some paperwork that I sent you." Lars knew what he was talking about—he was talking about a few safety protocols he set up for Emma...just in case his went sour.

"_The tax files, or the plans for your vacation?" _Lukas asked seamlessly, shuffling through a few pa[ers held together with numerous paper clips before rolling his chair over the floor over on his end of the phone. _"Have you decided where you'd want to go? I hear America's an a halfway decent travel destination if you wanted to go somewhere new."_

"Travel forms, but...I think it'll be to somewhere North of here. Haven't decided where yet. America's too far for me...Maybe Finland?"

"_Finland's not my favourite...too much has gone on around there. Why not to Oslo? Pretty nice history, laid back...I think you'd like it." _Lukas sighed, scrawling things down on a notepad. Lars could almost hear the fountain pen dribble, but maybe it was just his imagination. _"You could even stay with me to cut back costs. I don't mind at all, you know." _

"That actually sounds good. I might just have a friend come with me, so I'll have to send them over first, then I gotta finish up a bit of work...that's alright, right?" Hopefully this would work out.

"_I know...I'll get all the paperwork sorted out for you, and you'll be flying to your vacation before you know it. You just get some rest. You sound like shit, Lars._"

"I know I do...I've been cleaning. I've got guests tomorrow...I can't hardly think straight enough to think of what else I've got to do." He let his code speaking slip for a minute or two, letting his head rest on the back of the couch again. "...It's just difficult to plan vacations after large meetings."

"_Yep...I know that feeling. You go rest. Now. If you've got a meeting tomorrow, you need rest. Now go." _The other man ordered, sighing heavily as he went through another stack of papers. _"You've got everything lined up, and you have had them for the years that I've known you, so you just need to relax for now." _Lukas hung up the phone, leaving Lars to possibly go take a nap of some sort. He could easily just lay down on the couch and snooze for a while...right? Closing his eyes for a moment, Lars moved himself so that he lay back on the cushions, finding that they were a bit softer than he had thought before. Before he knew it, dreams were dancing into his mind, bringing back familiar music and slow dancing at extravagant parties.

* * *

"_Lars, I expect you to be on your best behaviour. You're only a few years young, and there will be humans around. You mustn't touch them. They're filthy..." Analeise stood in front of the Dutchman, fixing up his shirt before tying his bow tie for him. "You're still so thin...maybe if you didn't spend all that time making such a mess of our chess game, you'd have more time to eat a decent meal."_

"_I'm sorry, Ana-...Madam." The shaggy-looking blond looked down at his feet until the fair Austrian tilted his head up to look at his face. She had only a bit of powder on her nose and a small amount of eye makeup on. Other than that, her pale purple dress with white lace around the edges and small white gold and diamond necklace were the extravagant items on her person._

"_There you go. That's a good boy." She seldom smiled, but when she did, it was because Lars had done something good, or he had gotten farther in controlling himself. "Sit down and I'll comb your hair back. You don't do it right at all. Even Gilbert can do his own hair and he's a savage sometimes." Doing as he was told, Lars pulled up a very uncomfortable chair with little to no padding and a tacky looking floral print on the fabric. The comb she used to pull his hair back was uncomfortable, too. The hog hair bristles dug into Lars's scalp, making him squirm like a child. With a bit of work, Analeise got Lars's hair to obey the brush and stay where she brushed it. _

"_...I look like Ludwig." Without the scar on his eyebrow, Lars would have looked like Ludwig more than anything. But, Lars's nose was a bit wider and his jaw a bit wider at the base. _

"_Ludwig is handsome, and you should be happy to look like him. Keep your chin up and don't slouch. If you can't stand the humans, use this." Without warning, a handkerchief was flung in Lars's face, the sweet scent of perfume invading his nose. It almost sent him a bit overboard into shock, it was so strong. Quickly taking it from his nose, Lars stared at the small violets embroidered into the corners and along the edges. "It's mine, but I don't expect you to give it back."_

"_Thank you, madam." The other nodded, taking a quick sniff of the fragrance before tucking the fabric into his lapel pocket. It stuck out perfectly—just a small triangle of white and purple from the dark colour. "It goes well with the suit." _

"_Of course it does. Now get up and escort me down to the grand hall. They're all waiting for us to arrive." For a woman that held so much beauty in a small figure, Analeise had a sharp tongue and a frank way with words. She had her kind moments, and sometimes...they were too kind. Raising to his feet, Lars smoothed back his hair again, making sure nothing was out of place before offering his arm to the other. To his surprise, she tugged Lars down by his shirt, placing a light kiss on his cheek. "Don't you dare think I'm going soft on you with that kiss. You've been doing well, and I've decided to reward you for your effort. If you do well tonight, I'll allow you to sleep inside and with a bed and blankets. You'll have to work extra hard for a pillow tonight."_

"_Y-Yes Madam." Lars nodded eagerly, breaking his quiet character for a moment as he gathered himself up again. "I won't let you down, I promise."_

* * *

Waking up again with the faint sound of his phone and the small grace of what felt like the remainder of a tingling kiss on his cheek, it wasn't easy to answer the phone. _Emma. _Weighing his options, Lars let the voice mail pick up. He could mentally go through the message that played on the phone. _'You have reached Lars Van Dijk. Press one to leave a message, or press two for a direct line to a business number you can reach me at. Here's the beep.'. _

Waiting until the phone made its inevitable little beeping sound, Lars waited patiently for the message ended. One minute. Two minutes. Emma must have been talking a long time. When the phone did beep, Lars picked it up and listened to the message.

_'Heya Lars, I was just wondering if you were around. I was going to tell you that Francis invited me out to dinner, and I was hoping you'd want to go with us. But, you're probably busy if you're not answering your phone, but if you want to call back, I've still got some of your clean clothes you could change into and you could take a shower at my place.' _She paused for a minute, making Lars mentally imagine her pursing her lips. _'This probably seems stupid to say, but I kinda miss you, even if it has been only two days. You're usually here, so I'm used to you being here, ya know? ...I'm running out of time here, I'll just assume you got this and you agreed that you owe me a date. I love you, Lars. I'll see you soon.' _

"She really needs to know." Lars shook his head, getting up quickly before shedding off his clothes, laying them on the couch. He needed to focus. "Think little...think small..." He said quietly, gritting his teeth as he started to shift uncomfortably. "Th-Think...house dog." Then in one big snap of muscles and joints, what was one Dutchman was now a sandy coloured dog with a small discolouration on his eyebrow. Just to check himself and his size, the newly shifted dog hopped up on the couch, measuring himself against the cushions. Not too big...about the size of a hefty German Shepherd Dog, maybe. He only had a few hours to show Emma, and even then, it would have to be quick. Maybe he could charm his way into Emma's heart overnight and get her to see what was going on to some degree.

It didn't take much to get out of the house, just a couple attempts at opening the door with his paws got him out the door and able to shut it by grabbing it with his mouth.

It wasn't much different to be a naked dog in the big city. Sure Lars had to stop a few times to let people pet him, and he did have to roll over and get his stomach petted like a normal dog—which was also very different from being a human and having someone do that. It was odd...almost like when someone scratches that nearly impossible spot on someone else's back.

What usually took a few minutes to get to Emma's house and wait at the door for her took about fifteen minutes and a short trot to try and catch up with her and the Frenchman she was walking with. Lars didn't like the way he smelled at all. Like wine, a few cigarettes and red ink pens. It wouldn't take much to get Emma's attention—she really liked dogs, he assumed. She looked really nice today, though. Red shoes, black dress, and a string of milky white pearls hung at her neck. Finished off with a cropped trench coat, she looked like the heroine from one of those American spy movies she liked to watch upon occasion. Lars finally nudged her purse with his nose, resulting in Emma nearly turning around to clock whoever was trying to steal her bag, but was greeted with the sand-coloured dog wagging his tail and making puppy eyes at her.

"Oh my God...he's so cute, Francis!" She beamed, taking a moment to crouch down and pet this handsome creature. Again, the petting felt great. Under the chin, behind the dog ears...it was natural for his foot to start twitching and his tail wagged from side to side...until Francis came along, then he stared up at the Frenchman for a minute before sneezing in his hand when the blond made an attempt at petting.

"Sure, he's a real charmer...but we've got reservations, and I think the bus is coming. De Godevaart doesn't wait for reservations to come, cherie." Francis beckoned her to come along, tempting for her to get on the bus. Just for added effect, Lars whined and crawled after her, having a bit of fun with acting cute and pathetic. Francis, on the other hand, gave the dog a bit of a look, shaking his head after letting his 'date' get on the bus first. They should have took a cab. A cab would have been nicer. Francis was an idiot, Lars noted. He _really _did not like the Frenchman.

"Alright, alright...goodbye, puppy~" Emma chimed, kissing the dog's forehead before heading to the bus. Lars followed the bus downtown, eyeing the people around. Nobody suspected a thing, but all the walking was making his paws swell—He almost wanted to go into an alley, shift into his fuller wolf form and then go back to being the smaller 'house dog'. If he did too much at one time, he'd start to lose his form and he'd become a big, terrifying wolf, leading to his capture and possible demise at some animal control centre where he'd be counted as a wolf before he shifted back into the naked man he really was.

Walking and weaving through all the people was like walking through an ocean. Calm, some things grab your attention, but then again, it's refreshing to do so in the coolness of the surroundings. Every once in a while, he'd rest a bit, and then he'd start walking again, sometimes acting a bit more human by resting his feet on the cooler parts of the pavement to soothe the pads of his feet. Ten minutes on the bus was twenty for Lars, trying to find the damn restaurant. When he did, Lars sighed and lay his body down in the alley, his head peeking out from the corner. Hopefully they wouldn't take too long...He didn't like waiting, even if it were for Emma. A few people came to see him, but other than that, he wasn't bothered too much. One person, a woman with a thick and wild American accent and short hair like Emma's had stopped with her sister—a girl with long blonde pigtails and one stray hair that sprung up at the top of her head. The more rambunctious one petted his ears and rubbed the soft fur, proceeding to rub between his eyes, up and down his snout, then back to scratch the back of his head. He couldn't help but to relax, letting his eyes roll back for a moment before nudging the loud American's hand with his nose. That was nice, but she didn't need to do that anymore. He had a mission to do, and she was starting to pet his belly and ask 'Who's a good boy'.

_'Being a dog was a bad idea. Oh God, it's a bad idea. Such a very bad idea, but belly scratching is okay.' _Lars's mental dialogue went to shit the moment that the quiet American decided to pet his belly, causing an eruption of foot quivering and mock scratching from Lars's hind leg.

Emma and Francis came out of the restaurant not much later with Francis complaining about how the reservation was lost, and he was unable to get his money back. Served him right, though. They should have at least gotten the table in advance before going out...maybe a week. That's what Lars would have done. With a loud huff and snort, Lars picked himself up and shook off the Americans, barking at Emma until she noticed him. "Hm? Oooh, puppy~ You didn't...He must have followed us or something." Emma blinked, leaning down to pet the dog again. "Hunh...That's really weird."

"It's probably crazy, that's why. Come on, before it bites you or something." He hissed, tugging her along, giving the dog an awfully hefty glare. Lars, in turn, lifted his lip and snarled, narrowing his doggish eyes before wandering next to Emma while Francis walked on the other side of the blonde. "Maybe we should drop him off at the pound?"

"No...I think he'll be fine outside tonight. He's obviously smart enough to survive out here. I also need to call Lars back again. He's probably waking up from a nap or something."

"He actually sleeps? I'd think a robot like him wouldn't even blink." The Frenchman snorted, pulling Emma a bit closer as they walked, souring Emma's expression. "But, I guess we need some robots in the world. Not everyone can be emotionally attached."

"Francis...that's really rude." The smaller blond growled, moving the Frenchman's hand away from her. "If you're going to insult my boyfriend, you just need to leave me alone."

"Come on, he acts like a rock, Emma! I would have thought that you would agree with me!" He exclaimed, backing away with a serious expression. "I see that you're unhappy with him, and—"

"Fuck off." The simple words caught even Lars off track, perking his ears up at the other. "Lars is better to me than you'll ever be. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm calling a taxi. Don't bother to talk to me at work, either." She snapped, walking off quickly and with a swing in her step. An evening about him complaining about Lars was too much.

The Dutch dog still sat on the sidewalk, looking up at Francis. "What are you looking at, you stupid dog." He snapped, turning the opposite direction to walk back to the bus stop.

Farther down, Emma whistled for the dog, holding open the taxi door. The driver didn't seem to be bothered by the fact that she was bringing a dog in his cab. "Come on, let's get you back to your side of town...if your owner's anywhere around where I live, I'll drop you off there." She explained.

* * *

Taxi cabs weren't the favorite place of Lars, even if he was a dog. He was starting to shift a bit, getting a bit bigger as he lay his head on Emma's lap. She idly petted his head, staring out the window. "People are such asses sometimes...You get to know them, but then they're just rotten." She sighed. The driver pulled up to her apartment, and she paid for the fare before heading inside...and Lars followed. "You can't be in here, bud...Sorry." She tried to get him to leave the lobby, but instead, he just stood there and looked at her with a tilted head before heading over to the elevator doors. Nudging the button with his nose, he stared at her until the elevator doors opened. "Nevermind, you could probably steal my bank account if you tried."

Realizing she wasn't moving too quickly, Lars hopped in the elevator and bumped the buttons to close the door, sending Emma into a frenzy. "Wait! Shit, I didn't mean that! Get back here!" Oh, this was too fun. Double punching the button to get up to her floor, Lars knew how to get up to the room before she did. Quickly, he got out and raced to Emma's room and tried to get into the room. She forgot to lock her door again. Lucky chance, really. He could hear the elevator coming up, and he found that he didn't have much time. He could shift back to normal, and then flop himself on the couch if that. She was getting closer, and time was running out. Quickly, Lars started to pull himself out of his canine form. All the fur started to recede, and his bones started snapping and cracking, a more human form returning. Changing from dog to human was much more difficult than he thought. He was just about finished when Emma walked through the door, just as his canine ears had shifted back to normal. The Dutchman turned around to see her surprised face, standing buck naked in front of her.

"...This looks pretty weird, doesn't it?" Lars asked, trying to make himself look a bit less awkward in front of Emma. "But...It does explain a lot of preferences with having sex."

"Stop talking, I need to just...let me think about this." The Belgian brushed past him, sitting on the couch with a look of total bewilderment. "...So...You need to explain to me what's going on. You were that dog. How the hell do you do that?"

"With a bit of concentration and a few adjusted bones." Lars said quietly, taking a few steps to the couch, picking up one of the small pillows to hide his crotch. "I might want to get some clothes on first."


	5. Chapter 4: Awakening

Screaming. It started out with loud screaming, and Emma throwing things at Lars from her purse. Phone, charger, lipstick, anything she could find. The door was closed behind her, so she was pivoting around, trying to get a good throw at him. _"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?! YOU'RE THAT WOLF OFF THE TV, AREN'T YOU? OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OHMYGOD—" _She screamed, covering her mouth to dive for the phone, which Lars deftly grabbed before she could, staring her right in the eyes.

"Yes. I'm like him, but I'm not crazy. Look at me. Look at my eyes." Lars instructed, keeping a loose gait so that he could dive again if she tried to get away. "Emma, I'm not going to hurt you. I've never hurt you intentionally, and I never will. I need you to calm do—"

"Oh like hell, I'm going to calm down!" Emma yelled again, stomping her feet and hopping up and down like a five year old that was trying to calm themselves down. "You're a goddamn wolf, and I need to get the hell away from you! You-! I'm getting animal control!" She snapped, heading for the bedroom to the fire escape. The Dutchman followed, trying to run before her to get to the doorway before she made it to the fire escape. It was rickety. She'd fall right through the shitty iron welding in no time. He managed in tripping her up and got her to fall over, only for him to jump over her and stand in front of the window. "Get the fuck away from me!" The Belgian blonde was in tears by now, shaking her head and scooting away from him. "Why did you lie to me?!"

"Because I didn't want you to freak out like this, but apparently, that didn't work!" Lars snapped back, trying to keep his tone in check. "Just…stop and listen to me. I can explain to you, but it's going to take some time, and a bit of patience, and maybe a pair of pants." He slowly got his voice to a level that was better for talking, taking some tips from his previous family in calming people down. "Please. Can you do that for me if I promise nothing bad will happen if we talk?"

"…As long as you sit on one side of the room, and I'll sit on the other until I'm comfortable." She moved out of the way and into the living room, not turning her back to him for a moment. "You. Sit in the kitchen on the kitchen stool, and I'll sit in the recliner in the living room. That's far enough." Emma directed, her hands still shaking in the hands enough to make her hand shake.

Doing as he was told, the Dutchman watched as she picked up a marshmallow gun with stale rock hard marshmallows in it from behind one of the book cases. "You still have that?" He asked, sitting down buck naked on the stool. Without saying a word, she pulled out a bag of small projectiles in place of marshmallows that would quickly run out. "This'll be fun, hunh?"

"Tell me who and what you really are. Now." Emma demanded, sitting down in the recliner on the edge of her seat to aim at Lars. "Don't leave anything out."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"How did you become whatever you are. Go." She cocked the marshmallow gun, staring him down with a blank expression. There was fear behind her eyes, though. She was afraid of him right now. The marshmallow gun was helping, though.

"I am a werewolf. 'Lycan' is another way to say it. Werewolves come around by natural birth and biting. I was one of the people who gotten themselves bitten. I was bitten in nineteen-fourteen and was pulled into a pack of particularly Germanic wolves. They were from all around the area, ranging from Berlin to Veinna, to the borderlands of Hungary. They kept me through my wild years, and taught me how to live as a werewolf." He explained quickly and efficiently as if he had actually rehearsed. "I'm going to be short about this part so don't shoot me." Lars sighed and mentally recapped, licking his dry chapped lips. "I left them because I didn't feel like I was living. I came to Antwerp long before you came to me. I lived here, went back, left again to somewhere else, and always eventually came back. I've lived here peacefully in Antwerp for as long as I've known you, and they're coming back to check on me. This is why I didn't tell you about being like this. I don't want you involved because it's a mess of things you don't want to ever see in life. It's basically what you saw on television with the Swedish man and the Finn getting killed."

"Wait, the Finnish man died?"

"This morning. It was on the news and it was released. The Swede is still missing. I might know who he might be with." Lars said sternly, wincing as he was suddenly shot with a stale marshmallow. "That hurt…"

"It was supposed to. Answer all of my questions. I'm not saying I'm going to sleep in the bed with you tonight after this, but I will want to sleep." Emma cocked the gun yet again, finding that this round was the plastic part of a thumbtack.

Lars should have anticipated that the explaining would have taken all night. She had so many questions to ask, and Lars would have to answer them all. Most were answered at a distance of recliner to kitchen stool with the help of a gun that fires stone-like spoiled confections and small items.

Though Emma seemed to be on edge with Lars, she did manage to lay on her bed with him in the end, still asking him all the questions.

_'Are you really from around Amsterdam?'_

_'When did this happen? Is the story about your brother true? Why were you in Germany for so long? Couldn't you leave right after they helped you out?' _

There were almost too many questions for Lars to answer, but Emma was dozing off at about three in the morning, laying in her little fancy dress and heels that she had worn earlier. Even her hair was still done up nice, she hadn't bothered to take it down. "...What's so bad about these people coming to visit you today?" The Belgian's eyes were half open, and her pillow was sandwiched between her head and her arm while Lars was the one to hold the body pillow tonight.

"To be blunt, they hate humans with a passion. If they could kill without anyone knowing, they would. That's why I've set up a few things. I've got a one way ticket for you to Oslo. Annaleise and the others most likely know about you being with me, so I can't risk you getting into trouble. If all goes well, I'll go with you afterwards, and we'll move a bit more, take up a couple different names and we'll live together all the same, give or take a couple wedding bands and a piece of paper saying that we're hitched."

"...That was the most casual sounding wedding proposal I have ever heard in my entire life."

"It's the damn best one you're going to hear, too." Pausing for a minute, Lars pursed his lips and nudged his way closer to the other, resting his forehead on hers. "But...I'm surprised you're not freaking out and throwing things at me like when I had that spider in my hand. Remember that? You told me to, and I quote 'Get that thing the hell out of my apartment, so _help me God, I'm going to throw this at you!_' You had a curling iron in your hand, and I honestly can say that actually was a little bit afraid. Of you, not the spider."

"Dammit, Lars. Now you got me thinking about spiders again. I saw one the other day in the classroom and I tried really hard not to scream and freak out." Emma huffed, resting her eyes for a moment, only to almost drift off before she woke up again. "...I don't understand why go to Oslo, though?"

"Oslo is home to one of my close friends. He knows how to deal with people like me, and he's an expert at forging papers. He's been the one I've gone to for whatever legal documents I need forged." He explained, watching as she dozed off again. "But...You should go to sleep and I should get home. I've got to do things before I get back home."

"Mm...? Like...?" She yawned, looking at the other with hazy sleepy eyes.

"I've got to get your smell off of me or they'll know what I did. More like who, but that's technicality there." I really do have to get going, though and you really need your sleep." The Dutchman tried to slip out of bed, but Emma refused to let go. "Emma..."

"Please, just wait until I fall asleep, please." It was that pitiful look of 'I might not see you again' that kept him from moving. Crawling back into bed, Lars curled up next to Emma, who was actually more afraid for her life than anything. Wolves wanted to rip her apart like that Swedish man did his own husband. What if something happened and Lars had to do the same? "...Lars...?"

"Mm?"

"...No matter what happens, just make sure to call me after your meeting. I need to know what happens after this." Emma replied. "If I'm going to Oslo without you, I need to know why."

"Alright..." Lars nodded, settling down next to her with a heavy sigh. "I'll stay for now, but I have to leave soon...you just go to sleep."

Maybe what happened next could have been prevented with him leaving a bit earlier. They were both too close, and the scent of Emma's skin would linger in his clothes. "I love you, Lars...I love you so much."

Within ten minutes, Lars was able to sneak away from Emma undetected, quietly walking from the bedroom through the apartment. Before he left, there were a couple things he needed to do. He took a post-it from the kitchen counter (the cupboards were littered with them) and wrote down 'Check under the bathroom sink -LVD' on the bright pink note, then took another and wrote an address. It looked like random jibberish, but it led to a municipal airport that Lukas ran with the help of his 'Stupid Dane' pilot.

Hopefully Emma would find these and know what to do. After this meeting, he'd probably be pulled back into the place where he didn't want to be. There wasn't much he could do at all about the whole situation, but he hoped for something easy. An easy punishment would be nice.

Lars did get to his home just in time. Stripping off his clothes in the back yard and throwing them in the burn bin, the Dutchman sighed and wandered inside to the back room where he kept a wash basin and some strong soap. First was the hard scrub, then the shower. The 'hard scrub' as it was took as long as Lars needed it to or until he didn't smell like humans, or just one in particular. This scrub was a bit more intense. Skin was scrubbed until red welts appeared and he was sure that the hair on his scalp was going to fall out. He still thought he smelled her on his skin, but it was getting late…he needed to shower and go to sleep for the evening, otherwise he'd be a mess tomorrow. Well….it was already tomorrow, so he'd be a mess.

The shower itself was long and extremely hot. The jets of steaming water burned his skin, penetrating every pore of his being. He wanted so much to punch the walls and scream, asking the universe why he had to go back. Emma talked about things such as fate and karma—had he done something wrong? What had he done, and how could he fix it? He just wanted to live happily!

It was nearly four in the morning when he had gotten to bed, sore, raw, and radiating heat like a furnace. Falling asleep didn't take long, as it was time for a deep and heavy sleep. Like a blanket slowly suffocating the mind, Lars nearly overslept his alarm clock. The smell of smoke from the burnt clothing from the few hours before stung his nose. He'd have to douse the fire and hide the ashes sooner or later.

Rolling out of bed meant making breakfast, putting out small baked goods, making coffee, getting all groomed and everything. Today's wear was dark slacks, dress shoes, black socks, and the all too familiar white dress shirt steamed and ironed to perfection. Lars looked tired beyond all belief. It was almost like he hadn't slept at all. At about seven thirty, Lars was on his third cup of coffee, trying to rehearse in his mind what he was going to say.

_I am here for my own personal enjoyment._

_I am here because I like this town. It has character._

_I am not going back to Germany with you._

_I am not responsible for the attacks on the Swede and his husband. _

_I am innocent._

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. They were here. Fifteen minutes early, per usual. Putting his coffee cup in the sink, the Dutchman strode to the door, sure to not keep them waiting. Peeking through the peephole reassured him that they were here. With a heavy sigh, he opened up the door, revealing two very familiar faces. A thin and petite Austrian woman with a purple blazer and a lacy patterned muslin skirt with kitten heels that matched the blazer. Beside her was the Hungarian man that he so hated some days. Light brown hair had been combed back into a somewhat decent hairstyle. He wore an Italian suit, tailored from top to bottom without a tie. Shoes were shined to a perfect point, and they both looked at Lars with disgust as he opened the door.

"You are aware that you have to sleep at night, right?" Analeise asked him, pursing her lips at his appearance. "You look terrible, by the way. I'm sure that the news of us arriving didn't upset you that much." She waltzed right past him, Daniel following after her. "But, you know why we're here. We've come to check on you yet again…since you've got the wonderful habit of running away from home." The Austrian woman went as far as to dust off the couch and sit where she pleased, one leg crossed over the other.

"I'm aware of tha-"

"And you've lost your manners. That's wonderful, too." She interjected, shaking her head slowly. "Come. Sit. Tell us a few things and talk with us." Daniel stood by the couch, eyeing the Dutchman like a hawk. He had such eyes that could see through anyone…well, anyone with the exemption of Lars and his poker face.

"So…I'm aware you heard of the attack at the football match a week or so ago….care to tell us where you've been since then?" Analeise asked, glancing at the assortment of goodies that Lars has put out, along with his hagelsag. There were fond memories of Lars constantly putting chocolate sprinkles on the grocery lists, and he'd fuss because he was running out, so he'd buy at least three or so bottles of the sprinkles. In bulk.

"I have heard of it. Tragic. I was here in Antwerp watching the game when it happened." Lars said lightly, crossing one leg over the other, furrowing his brows at Daniel. "I vaccumed the couch, so you should be able to sit, Daniel."

"No thank you. I don't plan on staying too long." He replied, his Hungarian accent still thick with some sort of negative emotion.

"Mm, but I'm sure you're aware we have the Swede in custody now? He's staying with us." She meant 'We're taking care of him to see if he's going to be a good pack member. If not, we're killing him and ending his end of the branch.'.

"I had somewhat assumed…you wouldn't want him to go around and create new pups." Lars re-crossed his legs, leaning on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. "Do you need any coffee or anything? I've got a fresh pot brewed, or there's tea in the cupboard."

"No thank you." They both said, cutting him off quickly.

"But getting down to business here…We need to have you back. Since you've been away for so long, Gilbert has issued a warrant for you unless you come back willingly, and agree to the course of punishment that he has set up for you with the help of Ludwig."

"What am I getting punished for? Running off? Spreading rumors about the clan?" Lars demanded, suddenly quite offended. _Calm down, calm down._

"Humans." Daniel said quietly, staring Lars down again. "I can smell it on you." He added, coming closer. His wide jade eyes trained on one part. He came in a bit close, sniffing the other's neck, then a bit upwards… "Speak." Analeise watched with her greyish eyes focused on what was happening in front of her.

"Woof." Lars hissed through his teeth, still giving that puff of air that Daniel needed to deduce that Lars's breath smelled of a human.

"…What have you been doing that you have some human spit in your mouth? It reeks worse than a pile of shit…" Daniel reeled back, crinkling his nose in disgust.

"Lars, explain."

He had been caught, fair and square. He had been in the middle of it, and his strings of lies had caught him up in the deadly noose that he didn't intend to be snagged in. There was a moment of silence, then Lars breathed. "I have had relations with a human. She is long gone by now. She moved. I didn't mean for myself to become attached to her, but when I told her I was through with her, she kissed me. It was the first and last time." He said flatly, slowly making a disgusted expression. "It was terrible. I'm surprised I had forgotten to brush my teeth."

"Good to know, though…because you'll be quite a bit farther away from her. You're going to Siberia for lying, deserting the pack, one charge of assault on a human, and for loving one. Humans are dangerous, and we will find her and put an end to her. Do you understand?"

"She had no idea what I was. It had only been one month of dating, and even then, it was nothing." Lars growled.

"There are no loose ties, Lars. We cut the ties, knot them, and then we go off on our own business." Analeise said, picking up her things. "Pack warm for Siberia. You're going to need all the warmth you can get out there. And also…your flight leaves tomorrow morning. Four a.m, you should be at the airport with your ticket to Moscow." Daniel then handed him a ticket and a passport, giving him a small smirk as if to say 'There's no mercy for you'.

"Just remember…we do love you. We enjoy having you at home. You should really stay for a while this time." Daniel smiled a fake grin, holding his hand out for a handshake. Before Lars could even accept, there came the feeling like a bullet train to his abdomen, leaving him out of breath and wheezing. The numbing pain wracked through his ribs, and he couldn't catch a breath for at least a minute or so. "Gilbert told me to give this to you, by the way. He misses you the most, I assume."

As soon as they had arrived, the duo left, along with the wheezing Dutchman to see them off. Daniel exited first, then Analeise just after a small parting gift of her own. "More than anything, I enjoy your company a bit more than the rest, Lars." Placing a chaste kiss on the Dutchman's lips, wiped her mouth soon afterwards. "It's a shame…I did think that you were more intelligent than the mess you've gotten yourself into." As soon as they were out of earshot, Lars quickly ran back up to his room, the dull pain in his abdomen gone.

He needed to tell Emma what to do. And fast. Emma was the first priority, then packing.

Siberia needed to wait.


	6. Chapter 5: Truths

_I am Lars._

_I am human._

_I am wolf._

_I am Lars van Dijk._

_The words circled in his head as he continued to hit his head on the back of the chair, eyes closed as he did so. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his body had grown thin and lean. There wasn't a trace of baby fat on his thin face. To add to the terrible features, there were bleeding scars and cuts all over him. They would heal and leave no scar, but the pain that numbly beat its way through his skin and into his nerves._

"_Lars, you need to stop running from us. You're still young, and you could easily bite a human and cause us to lose our cover." Gilbert was firm with his words, sitting at his desk. The Dutch youth still continued to hit his head on the back of the chair, annoying the Prussian man until he gave word to Ludwig to place his hand between Lars's head and the chair to make him stop. "Why did you go all the way to Oslo this time? There's nothing there for you."_

"_I wanted to go and see Norway. A hitchhiking teenager doesn't raise any red flags, so I decided to go and get my way there." Lars said lowly, opening one lazy eye as he tugged at the silver-alloy handcuffs. They burnt his wrists and made the flesh sting. "The moon doesn't bother me much at all. I was okay until you sent Daniel to get me." The time was 1920. The war had been over for one year, and even with the wealth of the Vogel clan of wolves, finances were slipping. Mostly undetected under the war radar, they had been scathed by the war's crippling effects. "Is it a crime to want to get out every once in a while and see people that you miss?"_

"_Oh? You were visiting friends? How cute..." Gilbert tilted his head to the side, propping his feet up on his desk as he lit a cigarette. He had gotten a pack when he went out, and he was happy to pay through the nose to get them. "Maybe I should send a gift to your friends. Tell them you can't go see them anymore. You're basically grounded anyways." As Gilbert inhaled, the tip of the paper had just started to burn with light embers. When the tobacco inside had caught fire, he quickly exhaled, blowing a billowing cloud of bitter smoke. "...Do you have anything to say, Lars?"_

"_Just a few things." Lars responded, curling his lip up to reveal a row of sharper teeth. "Fuck you, being one of them."_

"_I've heard enough. I should send you back to Annaleise so she can teach you a few manners with Daniel. I don't understand why you're so...misbehaving. I could also let Ludwig teach you a few tricks and manners, boy. You're only eighteen still, and you're going to be that way for a long time. Your ageing has slowed considerably, and we'll just have to keep you for that much longer." Gilbert took another long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Lars's face. He seemed pleased with the fact that the Dutch youth had started to cough and sputter, shaking his head to disperse the bitter smoke. "So...we'll get you all trained up..." He said with a smirk, motioning for Ludwig to drag the chair away. "We'll let Ludwig start with you first. That'll be good experience for both of you, won't it?"_

"_Ja, I'm looking forward to learning more about young ones like Lars...he's quite interesting if you ask me. He wasn't wild for too long at all. Usually it takes one and a half years to get normal thoughts back." Ludwig noted, tipping the chair back as to be able to slide it along without the risk of pushing the chair forward and having Lars hurt himself. "What do you have to say about that?"_

"_I'm overjoyed." Lars replied, digging his nails into the chair. It had been another hair-brained scheme of his, but this time, Lars was digging at the soft wood in order to make a gap so he could slide the bottom end of the cuffs through. It was working the whole time Ludwig dragged him down the hall and into one of the rooms...until he ran into something that wasn't quite wood._

"_You thought we'd give you just a plain chair? We're not as ignorant of your ideas as you think we are." Stopping in one room and shutting the door, the lights were all dim. The amber glow of the bulbs in the fixtures and a couple candles around gave little to no light for the either of them. "Clever plan, though. I'll give you that one." The lights suddenly blinked brighter, causing the much smaller Dutch to shrink back and squint his eyes, watching as the German man came closer. "I wonder what kind of punishment would be more...what's the word...beneficial to you. I honestly think that anything that Annaleise administers is much too soft. She's too motherly to all you young ones." Ludwig picked up a key from one of the tables, undoing one of the handcuffs before starting on the other one. "You're young enough...we're going to play a game." Ludwig said firmly, staring into the eyes of the younger wolf as he pulled a riding crop from his back pocket. He carried it everywhere he went, but now...it seemed like it would get good use. "Do as I say, or you'll get whipped. If you obey, you'll be rewarded with days outside the manse. If I'm not satisfied with your performance, you're not going anywhere. Understood?"_

_Lars remained quiet, his eyes still trying to burn holes through Ludwig's. The first command was simple. '__Stehen. Stand up.'. The riding crop slapped against the mahogany table, and near instantly, Lars stood, getting a small sound of approval from Ludwig. __"__Now sit." _

"_You just told me to stand up." Lars retorted, glancing at the chair with a wide frown. _

"_Nein. Sit like you're a dog." The German hit the table again, this time making Lars flinch at the sound. "Now sitz!" With a long hiss, Lars did as he was told, looking up at Ludwig once again for approval. It was like this for at least an hour, and when Lars didn't obey, there was a hard smack from the riding crop to either of his arms. By the end of the 'training', Lars's arms were raw and bruised, and he was sitting on the floor holding both the marred areas. "…Are you done?"_

"_For now." Lars replied, looking up at him with a glare. _

"_Good enough. Go to your room. Daniel's waiting for you outside to make sure that you actually do go where you've been told to go." Ludwig sighed, pulling out a handkerchief and wiped off anything that could have been on the fine leather end of the riding crop._

_oOoOoOoOoOo_

There were only a few rings until Emma had picked up the phone, groaning a bit as she woke up. "Lars, when did you leave last night…? It's only eight something in the morning…" She mumbled, looking at the clock from the bed.

"_I left early in the morning, but that's not the problem here. Emma, they know about you." _The words seemed breathy and worried, just as they should be. The Dutchman was standing in his bedroom, having been pacing around while waiting for her to pick up. "_They've bought me a ticket and a passport to go on a one way trip to Siberia tomorrow morning. I don't know how long I'm going to stay there. I've got everything lined up for you. While I'm in Siberia, you're going to Oslo." _

Emma's eyes had gotten quite large as he told her of what happened. "Lars, no." She didn't know what else to say. 'No', this couldn't be happening. 'No', you can't go. 'No', take me with you, _please_. "No no no no no—" She said quickly, sitting up fully in bed. "This is a sick joke, right? You're not really going to the middle of nowhere, are you?"

"_I'm afraid so. I just need you to listen, though. There's a package under the kitchen sink. It's labelled as cleaning supplies but inside is a bunch of documents I've saved from when I was younger. Photographs, birth certificate, and everything else. There's a passport with your name on it in there as well. Take that, call the number on the cupboard on the pink post-it, and start packing." _Lars instructed, pursing his lips. "_Lukas will take care of you in my absence." _

Emma didn't want to cry while she was on the line with Lars, put the Belgian had her lips pursed into a heavy line and tears were starting to form in her eyes. "Lars…"

"_Please don't cry, Emma. Please…" _Lars's voice sounded strained as it was, and on the other side of the phone, he was holding his stomach, trying to ease the pain of the blow he had taken. "…_I'll be sure to contact you whenever you can. I love you so much…I'd probably drive myself crazy thinking about you while I'm away."_

"Please don't. I'd like to have a sane boyfriend to come back to." She sniffled, rubbing her nose.

"…_About that. You need to look in that package as soon as possible. Please, though…please let them take care of you, and do as they say. I have something worked out, and I'll be back with you in no time. And we'll go somewhere nice."_

"…I wanna go to America when you get out of there. We'll live there for a month, get fat and work it all off. There's cold winters in the Midwest with lots of snow." Emma wiped her nose again, then wiped a few tears away. "I know by the time you'll get out, you won't like snow too much, but I really don't care because you promise...right?"

"_I promise. I need to go and pack...alright? As soon as you get off the line, call the number and go through that box, and then you go and pack. They'll get to Antwerp faster than you can say Verantwoordelijkheidsgevoel." _

"Alright...I'll do that." The Belgian nodded, sighing through her nose. "...I love you, Lars. I love you so so much."

"_I love you more. I'll go crazy before I stop loving you." _The line cut off, leaving Emma to her own devices. Lars sat on the bed, holding his stomach. He felt like he was going to throw up. The dread and pain was starting to get to him. He might as well pack underwear, socks and warm clothes, he assumed. What would Emma pack, though? Probably everything and the sink.

_OooOoOoOoOo_

There wasn't much to say after that. Emma dug the double wrapped plastic bag out of the bathroom sink cabinet and went through it quickly while she packed. Lots of pictures, scanned and remastered so that they would be clearer. Lars and his family, Lars and a bunch of people. The writing on the back of the card read 'Amsterdam || 1911 || 14 yrs old' There was a bunch of old farm equipment, a dog...it looked to be a sheep dog, actually. Another one was Lars at seventeen in an old automobile, and there was another young man next to him. 'Lars and Luca || 17 and 16 || 1914' Under the writing on the back, there was a message:

_'For a guy who's so up tight about his money, you sure drive like an asshole. Learn to drive better before we ship off to America, Lars! -Luca Schroeder_

Ps: I may not be your broer, but I can't think of anything closer than that.'

Luca must have been the one to die in that car accident...it must have been terrible to lose someone like that so quickly. Tucking the photos back into the bag, Emma pulled out her passport. With a sigh, she looked it over. All the information was correct. Date of birth, name, picture...though the picture looked quite...plain. She was smiling, but it was almost too sweet. It wasn't right at all. She looked the bag over again, and upon further inspection, there were a few flash drives in there. One marked with 'Finances', another marked with 'Information' and a few more on a key ring with 'Class I, Class II, Class II...' and so on, on them, all the way up to 'Class VI'.

When she was distracted away from the photos enough, she picked up her phone and called the number on the post it note and put the address into her phone's gps as well. The phone rang a couple times, then someone picked up.

"Lukas's phone, can I help you?" The voice sounded young—teenager young. There was a slight crack in his voice when he spoke.

"Yes...I'm looking for Lukas? It's in regards to one of his friends. Does Lars van Dijk ring a bell?" The moment she said that, the teen started yelling in some Scandinavian language. The phone was jostled to someone else, then another man answered.

"Lukas Thorsen, how may I help you in regards to Lars?" He asked her quickly, shuffling through some papers, it seemed.

"Uh—My name is Emma, and he left me your name, number and address to an airport...? I really don't know how to explain it, but he's had a run in with some people he knew, and now I'm coming to Oslo...?"

"That you are." Lukas sighed into the receiver, turning his head away from the phone. "Mathias! Kom i flyet begynte!" He coughed, then came back onto the phone. "It's going to take us a day to get there. We're going to make a stop in Bermen, Germany for fuel, then we're going to stop in Antwerp and make a fourteen hour flight. Getting to you will take about...Seven hours, at least."

This was going too fast. It was rocking and grinding in Emma's stomach, and this was just...too much. Too much at once, and she needed an answer to her questions! "Why does Lars want me in Oslo so badly? What...what the hell is really going on here?" Anxiety swept through Emma as Lukas spoke, as she was getting upset with what was going on. "Please, just tell me something that'll help."

The man on the other end of the phone sighed, and somehow she imagined him pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was told to tell you on the plane. You will have to wait, Emma. I'm sorry, but that's what Lars told me to do, and he's been a client of mine for a long time now. I don't want to displease him even now. Get your things packed, and we'll be there to pick you up. Okay? This is difficult for everyone, not excluding yourself. Air traffic, air police, and travel times are going to be our main problems. Not to mention that it's not uncommon for witches to be out at this time of night...they'll be all over the place sooner or later this year..." Lukas sounded like he was starting to get his things together, yelling at Matthias again, then to a different one named Eirikur. "Please meet us at the address Lars gave to you when I call you. I'm sorry this has to happen, but it's for your own good."

Emma hung up her phone without any other words, sighing heavily as she tossed her phone away. This was just too much right now. She couldn't bear to think of all of it. So...what do people do when they feel like they can't handle things? They bottle it up. No more feeling. Not until it can be dealt with in a healthier manner rather than worrying and yelling and crying.

OoOoOo

_There was a famine. Every human being was taking something from this, whether it be food from another person or the sickening feeling of emptiness in their stomach. Alice was one of those visiting on a deep and cloudy day. The cover from the ocean had blown in, creating a thick and impenetrable barrier between the sun and the Englishwoman. But why was she so far North from London? In one answer: Pests. An outbreak of small and powerless fledglings had broken out in around the coast, and it was her job to find them and make sure they never saw moonlight again. With having her task done, she found herself wandering around before she decided to catch a train home._

_She didn't expect to find him. She didn't think he'd actually look up when she called to him; "Are you alright?" As he lay amongst the filth with his ribs hanging out of his skin, and cheeks so sunken in. He couldn't hardly reply to her question, he was so weak and fragile. But his eyes were what caught her. Shining peridot eyes with messy red hair to compliment them. Behind all the muck and past the thin and brittle structure, he was beautiful...and Alice wanted to take care of him. She doubted he'd remember this, as he was still quite young. There a few things that she noticed as she picked him up, though. He was incredibly light. That was to be obvious, though. He probably hadn't eaten properly for a long time. This boy was covered in dirt. Hell, he made a dust cloud when she hoisted him up to her shoulder and pulled her cloak around. This boy smelled of wolves. Scotland was widely a werewolf-populated area. Many of the sailors and some of the other locals had mixed blood, or they were full bloods that were of Irish and Scottish, maybe even Celtic origins. He didn't smell too badly—a quick bath and possibly some time with Alice would cover that up. Even as she got on the train with this scurvy looking boy in her lap, there was a lump in her stomach that seethed guilt and dread as she made her way home. She had done something wrong, she knew. But...all for something so precious. "...Alistair." In the following years, he grew up strong, bold, and very much human. Alice realized what she had gotten herself into when he grew up to be a handsome man. Her knees grew weak at the sight of him, and she had slowly fallen in love. _

_He knew what and who she was, so with a bit of blood and some patience, Alice changed him so that they could be together as long as they could manage. _

...

... ...

...

"Alice, I'm not going to town for you just to get a loaf of bread and some sugar. It's bad enough that you had me go for other useless shit." Alistair huffed, looking up from his laptop computer at his desk. He was just playing Galliga again, but that was just a small detail at the moment.

"Alistair, I'm going to beat you to kingdom come, nurse you back to health and smack you with a stick, you ingrate." Alice huffed in retort, puffing out her cheeks like she normally did when she was angry.

The years with the Englishwoman and the former Scot were interesting. Explaining how things moved and changed were difficult when dealing with a small person, but in the end, it was working well. "...Can't you just go in the evening so you won't burn up or something?"

"I go when it's raining, you idiot. And it's just a ten minute walk into town, Alistair. Can't you just do this one thing for m—"

"Oh no, it's not just one thing. I'll get into town and you'll say 'Oh, I just need this, too. And some tea. Would you pick up some biscuits while you're out? Oh, and maybe some coffee. I've been craving coffee.'." The redhead mocked, rolling his eyes at her. "...Stop making that face."

"I'm not making a face." Oh, she was. She had turned her normal expression into a pitiful pout and refused to look at Alistair. "I'm just worried that you're not getting enough to eat since...you know, I'm not really a food person and you're a growing boy and all..."

"I've stopped growing since you took a chunk out of my neck. That still hurts, by the way. And I honestly don't understand why we have to keep the pantry so full. All you eat is tea and biscuits..." Alistair muttered, watching her come closer. "Oi, no no no. You get back over there." He growled, watching helplessly as she closed his computer up and moved it aside to plop herself on his lap. "...What are you doing?"

"Bribery." She cooed, kissing the bridge of his nose, winding her arms around his neck as he shifted uncomfortably. "Come on...you're more immune to warmth and sun that I am...and it'd just be for tea and biscuits..." Alice added, moving from Alistair's nose to his cheeks, then back to his jawbone. "And I'm sorry that hurts so much still...I could kiss it better..."

"Alice..." Alistair hissed lightly, quickly moving to shove her off of him and onto the floor. "I'll get your damn biscuits and tea if you don't do that—you and I may be a bit behind on that kind of bed-play, but that doesn't mean you have to use it against me like that!" He growled, flashing his pearly fangs in distaste. "You'd better be ready for a cup of tea and a wild afternoon of whatever you were doing."

"Kissing, Alistair. I was kissing, and you really quite enjoyed that. It's been too long since we've done that, hunh?" Alice just lay on the floor, looking up at him with a smile. She really had gone soft when it came to Alistair. After all, they had been together since he was a child...their relationship was almost like a 'Lovesick Lover' kind of love. He was head over heels for her, and she was the same for him. "I'll have everything ready for your arrival home...~" Alice smiled and waved at him as he headed for the door, closing her eyes with a wide smirk as she heard the door close. "Works every time."


	7. Chapter 6: Freezing

Morning came quite quickly for Lars. Four in the morning for a flight to the middle of nowhere meant that he'd have to get up an hour early and get his packed items in a cab before then. The orange city lights made everything look amber-coloured to him. From the burnt sienna pavement to the faint orange glow of the usually pale beige bricks and the peach coloured haze in the skies above.

Unlike the city, Lars didn't feel orange today. Today was more of a black day. From his soul to his mood to the feeling in his chest, he felt like he was going to a coroner's exam instead of for a meeting about his behaviour. Either way, they'd metaphorically split him open and make him spill his guts anyways, so honestly...what was the difference?

The airport was nothing less than busy, as it was all day, every day...usually. Breakfast wasn't an option as he headed to the airport terminal that he needed to be at, waiting for his flight. There were countless accents and words that he didn't recognize. Someone had tried to hold a conversation with Lars, smiling hopefully for a response. Instead, he ignored them until the last call for the flight, getting up quickly with his one carry on bag. Said bag just had a few items in it—A couple books, maybe a blank notebook and a few pens and pencils. Nothing too big. Lars figured that he could write everything down and possibly secretly send letters if he were to get out of the house at all.

The Russian wolves consisted of Nikolai, the youngest, Misha, the eldest, and Ivan, the middle one. Even though Misha was the eldest, he did not get any say in what happened with the pack, nor did he actually want to deal with it, to be honest. Lars remembered when he was younger that Misha said 'I'd be ruling unfairly. I don't like hurting people, so this job would be unfit for me.' And to be honest, it was.

The dark skies outside didn't give Lars much to look at after they took off. He could only see his reflection in the window among the dim and rolling landscapes. He wondered if Lukas got Emma's call. Did Emma end up taking the advice he gave her? Would she make it in the end? Lars could only hope she did as he closed his eyes and dozed off for the long flight ahead of him.

As tired as he was, Lars wasn't surprised there was a lack of dreaming when he woke up. Tiredness was like a heavy cloud hanging under his eyes, trying to get his eyelids to slowly droop down again. The intercom was telling everyone that it was time to put seat belts back on, as they were landing soon. The man beside Lars was still asleep with his head tilted back and everything. But, he still had his seat belt on, so he didn't see why he should bother him.

The decline itself was a bit rough. It was raining on the runway, along with a small bit of wind. One wouldn't think that a bit of wind wouldn't affect the giant plane, but one would also be surprised. Whenever the plane jolted, Lars held tighter to the arm rest than before. He was almost to the point of breaking the plastic before the plane finally hit the ground. In that time, his lovely 'friend' next to him finally woke up, looking around drowsily. Getting off the plane was relatively easy, then customs, then finding that his 'party' was waiting for him with a sign that said 'Welcome, Lars!' as if this were a nice meeting of friends for the first time.

But, there stood Ivan and Nikolai one smiling widely while the other scowled. Hunh. Lars would have expected different. "Welcome to Moscow, dear friend of mine! I'm surprised you remember my face—after all, it's been...how many years now? Fifteen? Back then, Nikolai was just a puppy and he was so much younger than you after all—"

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here." The shorter ashy-blond sibling spoke up, glaring up at his brother. There was a book tucked under his arm. It looked to be a copy of some French novel but it had been translated to Russian. Unfortunately, Lars didn't read or speak Russian, so he was out of luck finding out which title the other was reading.

"I'm not, I'm not, don't worry about it, Nikolai." Ivan smiled still, looking back up at Lars. "So, it looks like you got yourself into trouble...we'll tell you what's in store for you for punishment." Waving Lars along, he started for one of the doors to the outside. "We'll get your items in the mail anyways, so there's no need to get your things from the baggage claim-"

"There are things I need in there, though." Lars said firmly, stopping right in front of the door. There were a few people who brushed past him, and Ivan was letting the cold air in from outside.

"Lars. I don't give a shit. Don't make as scene here, otherwise I'll make an even bigger scene by ripping out your entrails." The look he gave Lars was along the lines of psycopath and obscenely happy murderer. "Now get in the damn car otherwise I'll drag you there by your hair."

Nikolai was already in the vehicle sitting in the front seat with the book open, looking at Lars and Ivan. "He's not joking, you know. He's done it before."

Reluctantly, Lars left the air port and got in the back seat after Nikolai motioned for him to get in the back since he wouldn't move. "We've got a long drive ahead of us, Lars. Most of the roads may be out by this time of year and-"

"Excuse me, but why would the roads be out?"

"Did they not tell you that you were going to solitary confinement? Oh, they must leave you out of a whole lot of things...that's interesting. Cruel and interesting." Ivan chuckled, pulling out of the parking lot and into the lane to get back on the main road out of the city. "They must have just told you 'Siberia'. That's adorable."

"What the hell does the solitary bit mean?"

"It means that you're going to be in a building out in the middle of nowhere with just enough to eat, drink, and a bed. No television, no reading material. Nothing." Nikolai piped up, flipping a page in his book. "Meanwhile, brothers and I will come out to make sure you're still alive. We'll bring you food sometimes, but other than that, no conversation. We'll just leave it on the doorstep."

"Oh, and don't forget that it's dangerous anywhere but outside the house. We'll give you wood and matches for the stove to keep you warm enough, too." Ivan added, smirking into the rear view mirror. "It'll be good for you. Make you think of the things you did wrong."

Most of the car ride was spent in silence, along with the conversation between Nikolai and Ivan in Russian. They kept on saying one phrase over and over. 'Bednyy chelovek ublyudok'. He heard it a few times until he dozed off, dreaming quietly of a warmer place. Between the blankets of a soft bed. Opening his eyes to see a familiar face in the same bed as his. A soft round face with delicate lashes and a slight blush to her face. Wavy blonde curls that framed her face.

He dreamed of Emma. One more night with Emma that didn't have to be a nightmare in the morning.

One more night of warm bodies intertwined, quiet in the glow of the orange street lamps and dim television light. One more morning of making breakfast and watching Saturday morning shows on the couch with feet propped up on the coffee table.

Wishful thinking didn't get Lars very far at all.

* * *

The phone call came at an odd hour. Five thirty eight in the morning. The sun was just coming up, and Emma was still awake. Possibly on her fifth cup of coffee and nine hundreth round around the apartment, but she picked up quickly and walked to the door. Bag already packed and by the door, filled with clothes, some sanitary and bath products, along with the bag of items that Lars had left for her. "Emma speaking."

"_Ja, we're here at the airport. Go ahead and call a taxi or something to get you here. We'll be waiting, and we're the only plane out here this early," _Lukas sounded tired, and there was different talking in the background. _"You got the address, right?"_

"Yes, I've got it..." She nodded, picking up her bags. "I've got a cab on hold, I've just got to call."

"_Good. I'll see you soon."_

Emma's insides were somewhere past 'I'm going to throw up' and sitting more so on the doorstep of 'I think my stomach has been liquefied'. But, the numbness of staying up all night had set in, so it dulled the feeling back down to 'I just went on a roller coaster'. She hadn't heard from Lars, so he must have been long gone. She couldn't fathom what was possibly going on with him. Calling up the cab, she made her way downstairs, which sparked the idea to call her voice mail and listen to a few old messages while she waited.

_Five old voice mail. Message one._

"_Emma, it's Lars. Just calling to make sure you got up on time. Sorry about leaving all my things at your place I-_" There was a crash in the background and the sound of something catching on fire. _"HOLY FUCK, I need to call you back, I just caught my lunch on fire-_" The line cut off, but it left Emma smiling. When Lars was surprised suddenly, it was something hilarious. There had been a year that she had scared him after watching a horror movie, and his face was _priceless. _

_Message two._

"_Emma, would you pick up your phone? I need to know if you want anything else at the supermarket. I have no idea what to buy for you if you can't call me back—Plus it's winter and I'm sure you wouldn't want ice cream. Unless it's chocolate." _He paused for a minute and sighed heavily, giving up for the moment. _"Nevermind, I'm just going to get you the tampons, a bag of chocolate and the truffle ice cream. You may be having problems, but tough love."_

_Message three._

"_...Emma, I'm sick. Can you come over and bring some soup and—one moment." ... ... ... "...Don't bring tomato soup. Chicken broth and club soda." _That was the first year they were together. Lars told her that he never got sick, but then not even a month later, he got _really_ sick. He couldn't get up for days without being dizzy and feeling like he was going to vomit all the time. Emma stayed the weekend to make sure she pushed him to drink plenty of liquid. If that meant chicken broth and club soda, he sure as hell was going to drink that.

_Message four._

"_Emma, it's Lars. I realize that you're at your job, but I thought it would be a good idea to call you and say that I'd like to go on that second date...well, first because meeting in a bar and sleeping in your bed isn't really a date. Just call me back so we can discuss a date and time. Thanks."_

It was pathetic of her to do this. She was just starting herself off to hurt even more when she woke up from all of this. As she piled her things in the cab, Emma put down her phone and looked at the buildings she was leaving behind. All of them were familiar to her. She assumed, though that she'd be able to go back and get a few more things of hers. She had left a couple figurines that she left, and a couple other things. Maybe. Lars would tell her it would be dangerous for her to come back...right? Right.

A fifteen minute car drive to the address on the scrap of paper she gave the taxi driver took her to a vacant lot with a small commuter plane sitting on the runway, and a couple of people bundled up in warm jackets. One of them had their face in the coat, so only the eyes could be seen, and some blond hair. The other had what looked like a knit cap and a parka on. "Emma Peeters?"

"Ja, that's me...You must be Lukas?"

There seemed to be another person in the plane behind them, but he looked...odd. Pale purple eyes and glossy white hair hidden under a black sweatshirt from what she could see in the windows. "Lukas Solberg. I'm the man Lars set everything up with. My friend Matthias is our pilot today, so you could sleep if you needed to, or we could get to know each other."

"Either one is fine...I haven't slept since I called you, so I wouldn't mind sleeping a bit more." She admitted, pulling her coat a bit closer around herself. "I honestly need the rest if you're going to be talking to me about Lars and what's going on with him."

"That's understandable. There has to be a lot of emotional stress happening with you right now, so rest would be a good idea." Moving aside to lead Emma to the plane, he called for Matthias to help her with her bags. "Matthias will take your bags for you if you wanted to find a seat...You don't have anything breakable in your luggage, right?"

"No, if you don't consider flash drives and photos breakable." Taking the steps one by one up to the plane, she could already see inside. It was quite nice, really...Probably fake leather seats, but the inside was clean, albeit a bit small. "You really know how to drive in style..."

"It cost a bit more than the house I got, but otherwise it's fine for travel, really. Could be better." Lukas mumbled, coming up after her, watching Matthias struggle. "...Do you need help?"

"Nah, I got it, I got it...did she pack the kitchen sink?" Matthias replied from behind his coat, finally getting the luggage into the plane and secured down just in case of some sort of aerial accident.

Looking around before picking her spot, Emma sighed and flopped down in one of the chairs, not noticing the huddled figure next to her. "...Who's this?" At the seemingly sudden voice next to her, Emma would have sprung up, but instead, she just looked over and gave a flat stare.

"That's the woman I was telling you about. Her name is Emma. Emma, you're in his spot. He's not too fond of people being so close, so could you..." Lukas made a shooing motion, patting a seat next to him. "It's not his fault. He needs to stretch his wings sometimes, so he likes the extra seat."

"Wings?" Upon moving over, she did notice that his hooded sweater he wore was bulging a bit. Feathers were swept in the back to the back of the aircraft, even.

"He's my brother of sorts. I found him when he was little and he had a broken wing at the time. So, Emil lives with me now, even though there's a flock of hawks just like him up North."

"I've told you before, I don 't like being too cold. I'll stand for a winter indoors, but not a whole lifetime outside." Emil huffed, readjusting himself in his seat so that he wasn't laying on his wings. "Just leave me be for once." He muttered, turning himself over to look out the window.

Lukas just gave him the 'older brother eye roll' and turned back to Emma. "Get some rest while we're in flight. You'll need it to get yourself set up in Oslo back at our home."

* * *

Jostled awake. Thrown out of the car in a hurry and his clothing items and personals were rummaged through and thrown at him when they were picked clean. "No phone, no communication, just a few pens, clothes and your toiletries. That's it."

Lars tried to get fully woke up without getting a headache, but with the snow in his face and all around him, it was difficult. Looking around, there was snow everywhere. Just white, hazy horizon and wind blowing in his face. In front of him was a sturdy built cabin that was easily less than half the size of his apartment.

"Shouldn't we be leaving? My toes are freezing." Nikolai hissed, hopping back into the vehicle while Ivan stepped forward, the icy snow crunching under his boots.

"One minute, I've just got to lay down a ground rule or two..." Ivan grabbed Lars up by the back of his jacket and spun him around so they were face to face. "This is your residence for a while. If you try to leave, you'll get hopelessly lost. There isn't any sort of town or village for days. It's cold enough that if you even did try to wander out, you'd freeze to death. Many have frozen to death out here, so you're better off just staying here and letting us give you food every once in a while." Ivan told him. His pale features were starting to get a little wind burnt, making his cheeks, nose and tips of his ears reddish. "Minimal contact. You won't ever hear us coming." Letting go of the Dutchman, Ivan stepped back. "Lars, it's been lovely knowing you. _Vaarwel, Do Svidaniya, D__a Pabačennia..._Whatever you want to say. It might be the last time I'll see you. Depends on if you're stupid or not." Pausing for a moment before heading to the car. "One last thing, though." The bulking Russian came close, making Lars step back a couple paces. "Oh, don't do that. It makes this part less fun." He grabbed Lars's scarf and sent a bullet-fast punch to his gut (Which already hadn't healed yet—there was still a bruise the size of a softball or grapefruit), making him double over. Ivan also took the scarf around his neck and sniffed it. "Hm...This is nice...Maybe I'll send this to Annaleise for Christmas...heaven knows you'll still be here."

As Lars recoiled and the vehicle drove away, the only thing that could be heard was the howling wind and the fading sounds of the wheels of that sedan going over snow. He had tears in his eyes from the punch, and a bitter and sour feeling in his mouth from bile that reached him. After a few moments, the blond picked up his things and hobbled his way inside. The door was unlocked just for him. A set of keys hung on a rusted hook by the door. Inside there was a small living area and a small kitchen and one-person pantry in the corner, and to the left was a room with a mattress on the floor, a space heater and a smaller room with a...well, it wasn't quite a shower, but it served for that. There was a note on the counter in the kitchen for Lars, and it read;

_Welcome to your new home. Food is in the pantry. The place has a small windmill in the back so that you can get wind-generated electricity. Mind the water, though. It'll probably be cold. _

_Food deliveries come on Mondays. Bedding is in the pantry as well. _

_Much love from your Russian family!_

_-Ivan_

At least there was a couple chairs, a table and some shelves on the wall. Curtains weren't a bother, but if it were this bright all the time because of the snow, Lars would skip the bedding and use it as curtains. Also finding that they took not only his scarf, but anything that might have been of sentimental value. Like his watch and phone, and the pack of cigarettes he had picked up at a gas station a few kilometres back.

All he had left was clothes, pens, an empty notebook and a few extra scraps of paper from receipts. At least he had that. Luckily there was also a space heater in the bedroom, he now noticed. Maybe if he just heated the small room, he'd get by with just using a little bit of the house to make it warm and hospitable.

* * *

_Day one in Siberia_

_After a long day of travelling and being thrown in the snow, here starts day one of isolation. _

_Ivan threw a punch at me and stole my belongings from me, including the scarf that Emma got me for a birthday one year. I had told her about one that I had gotten previously, and she learned how to crochet so she could make me one. The cigarettes I could worry less about. The watch...I could get upset over that, but it wouldn't help me at all. After all, everything else is in Switzerland, and one precious thing is probably in Oslo by now. It'll be all taken care of._


	8. Chapter 7: Survival of the Fittest

_Netherlands, 1911_

"_Luca, we need to get out of here. If they find us getting in here again, my parents'll beat me. Sure I'll pick a shitty switch and I don't mind saving your ass, but make it over less-stupid things rather than poking in someone else's business."_

"_Lars, I swear! I saw a human brain in one of these jars!" Lars rolled his eyes and strode over to his friend, slapping him upside the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?!"_

"_What do you think? You searched all the jars here, so let's get going. Mother's going to want me home to start dinner for Father, and you know your mother at least wants you to start chores by now."_

"_You're such a tight-ass—You should really let up a little bit. And as far as I know, your parents haven't ever beat you. By the way, how is Ma Marljin? Still baking?"_

"_Still baking. I should get a bit more work with father if she makes any other sweets, though."_

"_Ooor, you know you could cut back. Otherwise you're going to get fat!" Whump! Another smack to the head. "You really need to stop doing that! You'll knock the stupid out of me!" _

"_That's what I'm hoping for!" At that, loud thumping and car engines could be heard, signalling that Lars and Luca really needed to go. "Shit, they're in the front of the building, aren't they? We came in that way—there's no way out." _

"_Ah, but have you forgotten that you're with the master of escaping?" Luca leaned in and wiggled his eyebrows before looking around. "There's a grate here somewhere, and there's bound to be some way out through there." _

"_This used to be a factory! All that's there is drainage pipes that lead to the ocean!" _

"_Exactly!" Grabbing the other's hand, they dashed into the halls, and in one of the machine rooms, Luca lifted up one of the heavy metal grates and let Lars jump down first before jumping down himself. "To the left! Wind rushes to us, so we go with our faces to the wind!" _

"_You're crazy!" _

"_Well do you want to get caught?" The yelling from up above them was getting louder, but it didn't compare to the smell of rotting waste and the smell of dead things that had crawled into the drainage pipes. _

"_I'd rather not have to buy a new pair of shoes after this! It took me months to get these!" Lars hissed, following after him until the yelling died down. "...How long is this drainage pipe?"_

"_About half a kilometre. We'll be on the coast in no time, then we'll be able to climb up the cliff and make it home before your mother can start to worry." Luca grinned, walking along with a smile in the dark. _

"_What will we do if there's a grate on the outside? Hm?"_

"_...That's a small detail I haven't worked out, but we'll get out." _

_It all ended up that they had to walk back and wait for the people to leave. In the meantime, their shoes were ruined and everything about them smelled of filth and grotesque rotting things. The young teens were subjected to scalding baths and a tongue lashing from parents, and a lovely visit from the town officer. _

_Luca and Lars learned three things that day. One, the factory on the edge of town did NOT have pickled brains in it. Two, new shoes for Lars and Luca both cost them hours upon hours of cleaning and working odd jobs. Three...Never take advice from Luca._

* * *

_Day five in Siberia || Dec. xx. _

_It's not as cold as I thought it would be in the house. I've had to turn on the heater in the bedroom, and I've moved anything I need into the one room. So far, I've been able to stay warm and not have to use a lot of the other parts of the house. _

_Although in isolation, I've kept myself busy. I've been doing exercises until tired, and then reading whatever I can find. Keeping my mind busy is the main goal. I've also been keeping track of what food has been left on the doorstep. So far, there's three cans of pickled herring, a box of instant potatoes that will last a while, two cans of white beans, one can of black beans, some peanut butter, two loaves of bread, and pasta noodles. Usually they drop off four gallons of water or some bottles of juice when they stop by. Anything they give is full of calories and carbohydrates to keep me well. _

_I keep getting bored, and the sun is usually not out long enough for me to tell what time it is. I find that sometimes I'm angry without reason. I'll try to keep everything written down for me to look at later._

* * *

Lars sighed as he scrawled down what he could in the notebook for the day. The mattress on the floor wasn't the most comfortable, but at least he was sleeping on something other than the floor. With the space heater on low, he wasn't freezing his ass off in the cold. The rest of the house was a bit cooler. Keeping comfortable was the main thing he wanted at the moment. He'd be more comfortable with Emma near, but that was a possibility that was far and away. He was certain she was with Lukas and he was taking good care of her.

Leaning his head against the wall, Lars continued to sigh and closed the notebook in his lap. He closed his eyes for what seemed like a few moments only to find that the position of the shadows in his room had changed significantly. He wanted to roam. Outside. Outside seemed like a good idea, but it was awful cold.

"Maybe one or two laps around the house wouldn't be so bad..." Looking outside, he shrugged and got up, stretching his sore and aching muscles. Having not been used for a while, Lars wanted to move. Pulling off his clothes, he slowly shifted into wolf form, shaking out his fur before shifting back to human to open the two doors that separated him from going outside. In the main room, it was a bit chilly, but then when he went to open the front door, the air chilled him to the bone. The gusting wind and the snow flurries all around...it was perfect. Fresh air. Shifting quickly to avoid being frozen right in the doorway, Lars made a quick dash on all four feet now. Everything was freezing. He did enjoy feeling the cold air on his face and the feeling of snowflakes hitting the fur on him. One lap around the house and his nose was starting to get cold.

Two laps and his toes were getting cold.

Three laps and everything was starting to chill.

One more lap and Lars stepped up onto the front step and went back inside, quickly retreating to the warmth of the bedroom. Pulling all the blankets over himself, Lars felt both relieved and satisfied. He'd have to do that more often.

* * *

(_Five Days Prior...)_

In Lukas's house, there wasn't much of a set decor. The furniture was mismatched as if it came from different points in time. The worn oak chair, a blue painted chair that looked like it had a few too many coats, a bar stool, and a pine stool that was pretty new-looking. They pulled up a different chair from the living room for Emma, and from there, they started to converse while Matthias made coffee.

"Alright...Emma, Emma...Emma Anri Peeters...you don't exist anymore. We scrubbed your profile, got into everything, put an end to all the social media, and of course, we managed to fake you a death. You were taking a trip, got to the subway and then you got caught under the tracks. Sad story, they never found your body. There's a whole investigation, call to the family, and the funeral is closed casket, and you'll be buried on Tuesday." Lukas started in on everything he could manage, pulling out all sorts of paper bits and files. But now...you're a new person. You're not Emma anymore. We'll pick a name, change your diet, colour and cut your hair, and then eventually we'll get you all shaped up and you'll know nearly everything I know about the world both mythical and not."

"Lulu, don't be a dick to the girl. It's her first day and she fell asleep at the table." Matthias pointed out, reaching over to tap on the table in front of Emma to wake her up. She did so, jolting awake with a bit of a yawn. "There we go. Now soften it up a bit."

"There's no way to soften up that we've basically erased her from the face of the Earth." Lukas retorted, looking back at half awake Emma. "...We could just pick this up tomorrow, she fell asleep again. "We'll clean everything up tomorrow and get a fresh slate. I'll chose names and get all that set up."

"Wait I get to go to bed?" The Belgian perked up again, humming lightly. "I could really go for some sleep right now to be honest." Matthias in turn, cooed and came around the table, helping her up and to a bed. Lukas watched from his spot on the table, sighing heavily. He was a bit out of touch, it seemed. But, that was why Lukas had the Dane. And Emil from time to time.

"...So how long is she going to stay here? I don't know how long I can share my perches and I hope she doesn't eat all my canned salmon." Emil huffed from his perch on the arm of the chair.

"She's going to be here a while, and I'll stock up on groceries so you don't have to worry. But, you do have to help me think up a diet to change up her smell. Otherwise she'll be obvious to the wolves, and it'd wreck our plan."

"You mean the wolf's plan for her to come after him."

"Possibly. I don't think she's going to actually rescue him, though. We'll stop short and she'll forget about him until she actually encounters him on a hunt or something..." The Norwegian man sighed and looked out the dark window, out at the emptiness around the house. "...It's just that calm before the storm, isn't it?"

"Surely it is. ...And I'm sure that she might just go after Meat-Head. She seems to have a preference for the tall, blond and stoic."

"Good thing Matthias isn't stoic." Lukas said with a hiss, quickly getting up from the table. "I'm making coffee."

"Ooh, good. I'll have coffee, then."

* * *

_Ten days in Oslo_

It was the crack of dawn again. Emma was woke up by the same light switching on as usual and the stripping of the sheets. She was hungry and a bit annoyed, and more or less grumpy. Since day two of being in Oslo to cover up her tracks, they had dyed and cut her hair to a mousse coloured brown that was about chin length, and they were set to try and change up her diet to change the smell she had. So far, it was working. Too bad it meant eating more greens and less chocolate. But, she had been meaning to diet, so this was a good thing...maybe. Goodbye, baby fat. Goodbye chocolate. Goodbye all the familiar things that she used to know.

Running her hands through her hair, Emma found that she didn't really like shorter hair. She wanted it long again. Sooner or later, she'd get it cut again, this time into a different style rather than the awful bowl cut Lukas managed to do.

Breakfast was granola cereal, some milk and a couple cups of coffee, and a banana to start the day. Then it was a bit of weight training, a couple lessons from the zip drives on the computer, and then a run along a couple trails Lukas usually used. Matthias would be her running buddy, keeping her entertained thus so far. Then, back home for lunch, afternoon resting, or maybe some lessons, and preparation for dinner.

Emma usually didn't eat too much for dinner, but she'd at least pick up something and eat at the table with them. Matthias would make conversation, and it would be really nice.

She'd close her eyes for a moment and space off for what seemed like only a small bit and think of her own table, her own apartment with the little radio playing in the background...until she opened her eyes and looked back down at what was in front of her. She'd see Lars in front of her wearing his favourite outfit: Button down shirt, slacks, socks, the pair of tacky slippers Emma bought him for when he stayed over, and that striped scarf he always had.

Day in, day out, this is what it was going to be. New vigour each day, learning about what she needed to.

"You're listening to those lessons aren't you?" Lukas called from the kitchen, looking over at Emma on the couch while she held onto the tablet she was working with.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? It's on the covens and wolves. Really interesting. Apparently their Supreme Omega has been around since the crusades." Emma told him, blinking a couple times as he eyes readjusted to the long distance glance going back to the short distance between her eyes and the tablet.

"Just wondering. You looked more like you were thinking about other things." It had been raining all day. Not the warm rain, the cold, bone shaking rain. They had just started getting ready for lunch, and today's run was going to actually be more weight training instead. Possible yoga to follow. "...I hope you know that this is what I planned out. Lars just wanted you to stay here for as long as he needed. He assumed he'd be out, but things changed quite rapidly for him. And by next week we're going to be shooting guns with your new identity. Marie Janssen. Dutch-American, moved back for college, dropped out stayed here. Graduated from a small farm-town high school, went to an Iowa university, and then you're here."

"...Where the fuck is Iowa?" Emma asked, furrowing her brows to the point where they may not have come apart. "Is it by New York or something? Maybe near California?"

"I think it's right in the middle. No trees!" Matthias chirped, pulling up a map on his computer. "Yep, but...Jeez, that doesn't look like much. Sounds pretty boring."

"Hush. It'll work for now. But you go by Marie, or 'Mari' now. Matthias calls you 'Mar-Mar' because he's an idiot." Lukas sighed and threw some chopped vegetables into a pot on the stove, stirring a couple times with a wooden spoon from the table. "...By the way, I hope you like asparagus."

* * *

_Emma's Notebook: Day xx (Day/Month/ Year )_

_Dear Lars, _

_ If you find this, I'm coming. Don't worry about anything. Lukas has me running kilometres every day. I'm lifting weights to the point where my arms feel like they're going to fall off every day. The only day I have to rest is Sunday. _

_ I can't begin to tell you how many things I already miss from my diet. Waffles being one of them. And veg mash. I would kill for cauliflower, carrots, potatoes and God knows what to be in the same pot and all mashed up with butter and salt. I'd honestly murder and eat a fried tarantula for a bit of chocolate after a week or so of doing this. _

_ And, I'd probably give up all of that just so I know I won't be noticed among all those wolves so I can find you. Already I'm starting to feel a bit better knowing that someone has a plan._

_ I'm not eating as much just because I'm still in shock. I know that you are what you are, but the history lessons and everything about you is just... I never knew you were like that. Wild, dangerous, feral...I could never mentally imagine that. I guess I'd have to see the real thing—someone who isn't sane before I actually realize what it's all about. _

_ I'll keep on learning. I'll keep on doing this. I'll try. And then when I get there, I'm gonna beat a bitch, because I already hate Analeise from what you've written about her._

_ Sincerely yours, _

_ Emma Peeters_

_ or _

_ Maria Janssen_


	9. Chapter 8: Bruises

Germany – Present Day

"You have what you want from me, just give my brother back, please." There was a smell like dead bodies and blood black and caked onto the wall. The patterns on the wall suggested that there had been a few beatings, and that was an understatement in the end. There was a thin man kneeling on the floor, speaking with a thick Romanian accent and a quake in his voice. Arms chained to the wall, he was close to popping his shoulders out of socket as he knelt before her. "Please, he's hungry and young—if I don't help him now, he's going to die."

"That's what we're hoping for, though. And I only need you for a little longer, Alin. And technically, Teo Pătraşcu isn't even your biological brother. You just adopted him like other leeches such as Alice and that French whore we've been trying to find for years..." The riding crop in her hands was worn from use, but the leather was no softer than it was the first day she had used it on the Romanian. "Tell me where Lukas Thorsen is."

"I don't know where he is, alright? Last I knew he was in Stockholm, and that was y—!" THWACK. Riding crop across the face followed by Alin's loud groan in response. Instead of fresh blood coming up to the wound, it was more of a black tar-like substance that oozed and leaked down his face.

"I know it was years ago, but you've visited him last month. He took a visit to your town where you've got your little apartment. Tell me, where did he say he was moving to, or I'll start giving you Teo's little fingers. Or better yet, I'll make you turn him to a changeling and make you deal with the bloodthirsty little bastard."

"Leave him alone! I promise I'm telling you everything I know!" Alin pleaded, looking up to her with hungry and tired red eyes circled with gray. "Please don't hurt him, please—!"

"What makes you think I'd give him some pity? He's a human child, and you're the monster that's going to kill him as soon as he's of age. But, I might keep him and raise him as one of my own...Berwald seems to have taken a liking to the young one and has been taking care of him for the past few days." This worried Alin. A werewolf taking care of a child that reeked of vampire, not to mention the Swede was still being watched for ferality. One wrong move, and he would kill him on the spot if he wasn't careful.

"Can I see Teo? Please?"

"Nien." THWACK. "Not until you tell me where Lukas is. Otherwise I'll bleed you out from your stomach."

"I'M TELLING THE TRUTH, ANALEISE!" Alin screamed, shaking and bruised as well as he could be with as little blood he had in him. His breath was hitching terrible each time he breathed in. Looking back up at the Austrian, Alin tried again to plead. "...I have nothing to tell you that you don't already know. Please, just let me and Teo go, and I'll contact Lukas. I don't know where he is, but he changes his phone every two months."

"There, that's a good boy." Analeise smirked widely, wandering over to the wall to let Alin off of the wall, allowing him to crash forward onto the concrete. "...Would you like to see Teo, then? He's been asking about you, even if he's happy with Berwald taking care of him."

"P-Please..." Slowly, he sat up, thick and dark blood dripping from his nose. As he situated himself, the door to the basement slowly opened, letting light shower down the stairs.

"Teo, someone wants to see you." She called with such a sweet voice, nothing like she had been earlier. The sound of little footsteps came down the hall and clattered down the stairs, right to Alin.

"Frate!" The little body of Teo collided with Alin's wrapping his little arms around the other's torso. Alin thought that he was bleeding worse from his nose and it was getting on his shirt, but then realized it was Teo's tears as the younger one sobbed. "I heard you yelling and crying, a-and—"

Adjusting himself the best he could, he murmured softly, trying to calm the other down. To Analeise, it was disgusting. Vampires were terrible beasts...walking corpses dependent on humans to survive. She had half the mind to get the phone number of the Norwegian who was helping Lars and then slaughter them both...or she could save the young one and raise him herself. She had done well with all her other adopted children, save for the one or two that had escaped her.

They were both talking softly in Romanian at this point, one seeming a bit more urgent than the other. It was mentioned that Alin's nose was bleeding, making him wipe it off on the back of his hand, saying it was 'just because he bumped his face on the floor'. Teo wasn't buying it, but he still wouldn't let go.

It was almost touching, Analeise thought. Just almost. "Finish up, you two. I still need to talk to Alin about a couple more things before I give you both release."

"Analeise, I've told you everything I know, you've bled me to the point where if I lose anymore, I'm going to shrivel up." This was the vampiric defense mechanism that made them to look like mummies, but it allowed them to safely hibernate through the years. But, it made them more vulnerable if they weren't hiding.

"Oh, I know. That's what I'm planning on." She hummed, calling up the stairs for someone to take Teo away. The smaller brother screamed and fought, holding onto Alin's chains before he was torn away again, taken upstairs while the Austrian in front of Alin smiled widely, pulling a little switchblade out of her skirt pocket. "I'll bleed you first, then I'll let you both go. If your 'little brother' is smart enough, he'll survive with you being a shriveled up mess, right? Otherwise, we'll find him again and bring him here. That way you'll see him again when we hunt your parasitic weak ass."

"Have mercy! He won't survive without me! He's only five! Let Teo and I go, a-and I won't go after humans anymore!" Alin pleaded, too weak to fight her as she came closer and closer with that little steel knife. "_Please!_"

"...I don't have any mercy for the dead."

* * *

_Week 3 in Siberia_

_I've been going out every morning to run. It's been nice, and each day I'm out for a little longer. In lupine form, fur has been thickening so I've now got a thicker coat and thicker paw pads. _

_I've been getting food still, but the deliveries are getting smaller one by one. Last week I got a few things, then I got a few less. It could be because they were treating me to nicer things: I got a small container of ice cream—a nice joke from them. As the days pass, I'm getting bored more often. I've been slowly finding things to tinker with and keep myself busy. Cabin fever is one of my bigger fears being out here. I'm worried._

* * *

Lars couldn't help but to want to go out another time to go running. Going back and forth as far as he could from the house, back to the house. He did have thicker fur this time around, and it was starting to look nice. The tawny color was starting to grow a bit darker in an attempt for his warmer weather fur to get a bit more warmth and sun in the tundra. In all reality, it would have him killed in the real world. People would assume he were an actual wolf until they shot him and he reverted upon death. Wouldn't that be a good headline? '_Naked man—assumed to be wolf—found in Tundra. Murder or Sport?_'.

It actually struck him as funny, but then again he could feel his sense of humor warp and bubble. The days seemed to be getting longer and shorter right before his eyes.

According to his clock, he had spent the whole day staring at the wall before he realized he needed to eat. Cabin fever was starting to drive him up the wall. Even with the morning runs and the exercising, and all the little puzzles he did.

Watching the world go by, Lars started to realize how dirty he was getting. The matted and scruffy hair, and sometimes he'd have a bit of dirt on his person. As a dog, it didn't really matter. If he felt ungodly dirty, he could just go out and roll in the snow and freshen his fur. That would transfer over as a cold ice bath, but it would get him cleaner than he was.

Today was also grocery day: all the food items were frozen on the porch step, but that wasn't any of his worry. Everything would thaw eventually, and he'd have some sort of food later after he came in. First was the ice bath, rolling around in the snow for a couple moments, stopped, then rolled again, then repeated this a couple times, dragging himself through the compacted flakes. Figuring he was clean enough, then came the run. A few laps around the house, maybe a few minutes more than he was used to, then he went back inside, grabbing up the grocery bag and pulled it inside. What assholes...giving him frozen food.

As he let the items thaw by the stove in the main room, Lars dressed and thought of Emma. What was she doing now? Was she worried about him? She was probably freaking out about how it had been so many days, and probably refused to talk to Lukas. Maybe she was on board with the whole thing and studying under Lukas by now? Maybe she was already getting to the point where she talked with the Londoners that he used to talk to? It was hard to tell. He'd know when she came and traveled to Siberia. Or wherever she may go. Emma was strong, and she could figure it out, he told himself.

* * *

_-London-_

"What do you mean I can't go back to Glasgow for the weekend? I've got old ties there, and I'd like to go back and do shit. After all, you know that I'm not a Londoner like you, and I really don't sound like it at all." Alistair sighed and started up his 'morning' ritual. Tea, a couple of cookies, a bit of orange juice for a bit of vitamin C in the day, and then a good four ounces of blood supplement, and then a trip to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. Then, it was work. Usually paperwork, as things went since Alistair did do a lot of business with Alice. A tea and shipping company that had been established thirty years ago. Alice knew what she was talking about when it came to teas, but Alistair usually did most of the writing work and marketing. Being charming and all, he did manage to sweet talk his way to the best items and teas, making their own blends from the materials.

"I told you that because I don't want you going out during the wolves seasons. To be honest, there are old Celtic Wolves wandering around, and they don't do well with us." Alice replied, not skipping a beat after his short huffs of annoyance. "Plus, I know that you fancy the boys at the pubs because you can't get a decent drink without mooching off of them. I shouldn't have let you drink at all when you were young."

"Blood alcohol isn't bad—You should try it yourself. Seriously, though...You'd enjoy it, and plus, it'd be good for you if you went to France and got a nice looking Frenchman drinking red wine." He told her, rolling his eyes.

"Alistair, your eyes are dark again." She told him, looking up from the book she was reading over breakfast. "...The whites are blackened again and your irises are red." It was actually often times he did this little eye change when he was upset. It was almost like his eyes went negative while everything else stayed the same. Normal vampires couldn't do this, but Alistair could for some reason.

"I'm not even going to lie about it. I really don't care." The Scot sighed in response, shaking his head slowly. "...Either way, I'm going out tonight and I won't get caught drinking, I promise."

"Good, because Lukas and his small group is coming on Sunday to set up a study for one of his students." At that, the redhead almost choked on his tea, his eyes snapping back to normal.

"No."

"No what?"

"No, I'm not going to become one of those science fair discoveries, no no no."

"Alistair, it'd just be for the week, and plus, his student was really nice!"

"As was the Bulgarian who ate all the fuckin' Yoplait!

"Alistair, that sounds a bit racist."

"_He ate that key lime yoghurt and I was going to freeze it and eat it like frozen yoghurt." _

"...You realize that we can't have that much yoghurt, otherwise we'd start fermenting stuff, right?"

Alistair paused and frowned at her, getting up from the table. "...I'm going to shower." As he left, Alice leaned forward in her chair, sighing heavily with her cup of tea in hand.

"Little boy, you're such a handful."

* * *

It was getting to be a long afternoon. It was Saturday. Emma had taken a day off since she was doing so well, but then again, she decided that she did want to just do a couple things with her studies to catch up. This time, she was listening to the two zip drives about the North American and South American wolves, where they came from, what they did and how they acted.

"_...Everything depends on how they grew up. Packs are usually limited to close families, like mothers and fathers, along with grandparents on the rare occasion of said family structures. Sometimes family groups will extend to cousins and other second and third generation, sometimes even fourth generation groups. This is different from European packs due to the low chances of wolves getting pregnant. While some in America run a higher risk of getting pregnant and conceiving, females in Europe run a slightly lesser chance, which sparked the movement to America, resulting in a wide and diverse population of wolves." _

With the audio playing on, Emma sighed and strummed on the couch arm, laptop in her lap. The voice was Lars's, but it wasn't how she remembered it. A bit tired, stressed, and harsh. It was like he was doing this as a college student who needed to pass a grade. It was good knowledge either way. She had learned so much from him, and she was running out of zip drives to listen to.

Around her, Matthias was sitting on the couch at the other end, sighing heavily as he read his book. It was some odd title she hadn't read before, but she'd eventually get her hands on it if she got bored. Emil was playing something on the phone he had, most likely Piano Tiles by the look of his face every time he lost. Lukas was doing paperwork, listening to some music with one ear bud in his ear. It was raining outside, and there wasn't anything going on. A day of rest among the working days, it seemed.

The house phone rang, and lurching out of his chair, Matthias ran for the phone, only to be beaten out by Lukas, who looked over at the Dane with a small half smile and a couple of tsk's. "Lukas's Phone, Lukas speaking." His expression took a turn as he picked up a pen and started scrawling, pursing his lips into a tight line. "Mm Hm...And you say there's transportation running from place to place? Hm...I'll consider it, and I'll make plans to visit you, alright? Thank you for telling me, friend." There was a pause and a slight chuckle, then he started speaking again. "Yes, yes, she's almost done with her first lessons, and soon we've got to make plans for a vacation in Barcelona. Intel on all the other packs, things like that..." Other packs? What was he talking about? "...I know, I know, you're partial to your kind, and it's difficult for me to pick a side because I'm neutral, Alice, and I always will be. You know that." There were just a few more words, Lukas bid the caller goodbye, and sighed at his desk, looking at his work before he looked over to Matthias, who had gone back to his chair. "...How would you feel about a weekend trip for us to London to meet a couple friends?"

"Are they the friends who have nothing to eat in their house?" Lukas gave the other a look that stated it all, the Dane groaned in annoyance. "This is going to be a terrible week. Just...I can't deal with not having good food at all."


	10. Chapter 9: Visions

_Week xX – Lars's Notebook_

_I think they left me out here. I haven't gotten any groceries for a while. I'm down to an industrial-sized bag of rice, some canned red beans and a few bags of hard candies. I don't know why, but they had sent me a shit-ton of those one day. _

_I'm getting more and more restless. My runs around the house are getting longer and more frequent. My fur keeps getting thicker and thicker trying to adapt to the cold. At some point, maybe I'll be able to make it out. _

_I wonder if Emma is alright. I'm sure she is. I hope she is. Maybe she's moved on. Maybe she's still with Lukas and Ma..Matthew? Close enough. I hope she's okay. At this rate, maybe she'll be here in no time._

* * *

It was a wonder that Lars could keep his mind busy. He wasn't a fan of meditation and the journal writing could only do so much. The morning and evening (so he thought) walks and endless hours of sleep only brought him more anxiety, and brought him to stay awake for days on end.

Lars was starting to become a grimy mess. Hair smoothed back, then everywhere at once. Dirty bedsheets and an untidy room was all he had for now. He was even considering ripping up the carpet and shredding that for some extra fuel in the pot-bellied stove.

Even his fingernails were starting to look feral and unkept. He'd bite them off, but by the end of the day, they were still growing into a point. Soon, they'd blacken at the ends and be nearly impossible to cut, even with his teeth.

Countless exercises, longer runs, pacing around the frigid house. It made Lars anxious. He needed to do something. He needed to—Emma?

_Lars._ Audible hallucinations. That's what it was. Surely it wasn't her, right? _Lars! Where are you!? _It wasn't. It wasn't her, it wasn't. She doesn't sound like that! What _does _she sound like then? A blur of hours brought forth more worry, more anxiety trying to keep himself busy. Ignore the voices and the few glimpses of blonde hair and light laughter. He couldn't do that for long. Because the blonde hair and laughter turned into her. Laying next to him in bed. Watching everything he did. Giving advice. Telling him when he needed to do things. Her. Emma. Was that really Emma? There were small details that were off. Hair a bit too short, wrong colour ribbon.

_Lars, you should really take better care of yourself here..._

She sat down on the floor next to Lars, looking down at him with saddened eyes and a light sigh passing her lips. "You're not real...You're not here with me. This isn't real."

_What is real, then? Do you really think that this place isn't real?_ "Good point. It's real alright. My toes are cold and my stomach is growling." Lars replied quietly, shaking his head back and forth. "I miss you so much."

_Don't. I'm right here. Just for you. It's alright. _It almost felt real when she touched his face, cupping his cheek in her soft hand. _It's going to be okay. I'm here now._

* * *

The trip to England to Norway was a boring one. It gave Emma some time to sleep and journal about what was going on. Time was flying by faster than Emma could count it. How many weeks had it been? Lukas had said it had already been seven weeks. Seven?

The first month was like some sort of dream. Then the next four were just running around the countryside, lifting weights, doing research on the things that Emma had no clue existed. Faeries, wolves, vampires, shapeshifters, winged people, elves, witches...it was all here. Right under her nose.

"You know, I'm kind of glad that they put the visit off for a little bit. I'm not sure I could handle everything right then and there. Packing up, making sure everything was packed, packing your stuff, Lukas..." Matthias sighed, flying the little charter plane like it were a car, glancing back at everyone in the plane seat with a sigh. "...And plus, there's Emma's stuff. All those darn pictures in that photo book she's been lugging around."

"Excuse me? I didn't want to leave them back at the shack for fear that something would happen. They're much more safe with me, anyways. They're antiques." If it weren't for the earbud missing from her ear, the Belgian wouldn't have been able to hear Matthias's comment.

"You realize that we've got a bomb shelter-grade safe in the basement. I could easily put the photo album down there and it would be safe even against the deep ocean." Lukas sighed, flipping through his notes at the table in the back of the plane. "And Matthias, what did I tell you about being rude to our guest?"

"It's been two months. She's basically one of us now, and I didn't think we had to sensor stuff in the mornings?"

"Matthias, I'm not 'one of the guys'. I saw your morning wood when you tried to poke Lukas in the face with it at the breakfast table." Emma retorted, closing up her tablet for a while. "...But getting away from the whole sausagefest, why are we going to see these people in London?"

"They're actually living in the countryside, and you need some firsthand experience with vampires. And, this one is actually pretty interesting. Alistair is a bit special. Not 'special' special, but different."

Lukas hummed, flipping through a few pages then went back to his work. "Being from Northern UK, Alistair has a line of lupine genes in his makeup, and when Alice changed him, that gave both him and her a change for the better. Because of Alistair, Alice has gained a few skills, and Alistair's fighting style when assaulted boarders lupine and vampiric. He's a hybrid. He shouldn't exist, but he _is_ a hybrid."

"...So is he like Schrodinger's Cat or something?" Matthias asked from the cockpit. "I know you've explained it to me a few times, but I still don't get it."

Lukas gave an audible sigh and rubbed his temples, glaring up to the cockpit. "He's fully dead, but he still needs a bit more food than normal vampires. Vampires can eat a bit of food, but Alistair takes double the amount of food that Alice needs. Say Alice needs three ounces of food a week, Alistair needs six to maintain himself." Lukas scrawled down some more notes, then closed up his notes. "It's just really complicated, and Alice can tell you later." He looked a bit tired today. Maybe it was from hauling all the luggage around. Or, as the Dane had said, 'He was up all fucking night and I couldn't sleep worth shit with him rolling around.' Then again, that was at about four in the morning, and now it was six, and they were all in need of breakfast. Who gets hungry at four in the morning? Practically no-one.

Emil had his tawny wings wrapped around himself in order to block out some of the sunlight filtering in through the windows. He seemed comfortable enough. In fact, with the warmth coming off of him, Emma could have went to sleep right next to him. "Ay, we'll be landing soon. There's a hangar that'll accept small commuter planes about three hours outside of London and then we'll have to take a car from there. So you might want to put your wings _inside _your hoodie, Emil."

"I really don't want to—I had them cooped up all night and now I need to stretch—" The boy whined in return, raising his head from his knees. To Emma's surprise, the teen was more pale blond than silvery as she had thought him to be earlier. "...But I'll do it. Just for the sake of the humans." He mumbled, pulling out a dark sweatshirt and slipped it on, being careful to make sure he didn't biff his wings.

"There you go..." Lukas wandered up to the front of the plane, setting himself down in one of the seats as he helped Matthias land the plane.

In the back of her mind, Emma honestly wondered how they actually got a _plane_ and a good title to go with it. From what she heard, the control towers didn't mind him one bit, and some of them actually cheered on the radio as he went by and signed off. There was something odd about Lukas. He was human, sure. But something about him was very off.

Pushing it out of her mind, she looked in the window and sighed, seeing the half-lit cities below. Blonde roots were growing in again. When she touched down and actually got to a store, she'd pick some color up. Hopefully it would match the last box color she got, and hopefully she could cut back on protein so her hair wouldn't grow as much. Maybe she could finally have some sweets...Maybe some Pim's or maybe Alice cooks? That was a long shot. Matthias was telling her that Alice couldn't cook to save anyone. This early in the morning, Emma was actually surprised that she had such well developed thoughts without having coffee.

* * *

"I really tire of all those creatures out there..." Analeise sighed heavily, stirring her tea with a silver spoon as she gazed out the window. It was raining today, and the garden looked like it needed to be watered still. Having an indoor garden was her best financial idea she ever had. There were plenty of things she could do. She could turn on the light and nap in the warmth, she could tend to her roses and irises...and it cut back on the need for air filters in the manse. "They ruin everything, and the little ones are awful..."

"Weren't you one of them at one time?" Gilbert had strode into the sitting room that overlooked said garden, his footsteps just out of hearing range.

"I regret being like that." She replied haughtily, glancing over her shoulder to see him. "So how is that little monster of Alin's? Is he well?"

"Daniel's playing along with him. Teo doesn't mind him as much, but he certainly doesn't like Berwald or you. He's not fond of me, and he won't even let Lud touch him. I wonder why that is."

Analiese smirked widely, tilting her head to the side. "Remember that sanctuary the Turkish man had made for himself and other leeches?" She asked, setting down the tea saucer and the spoon alongside it. "Teo was just little when we decided to go check on Sadiq and the others. Konstantin...Lysander...Hercales...Alin, and little Teo—he was just an infant at the time. We found Daniel there as well, but he doesn't remember much from it. He hit his head, and he looked like he could use a bit more nourishment than what he was getting there. It was just awful to see him so thin."

Gilbert stood and listened to her, pursing his lips into a fine line. "You blinded Sadiq that night. He wears a mask because of it. Plus, I've heard that Konstantin can't walk without a cane anymore. Someone smashed part of his spine."

Her smile widened a bit more as she took a drink of her brew, humming lightly in content. "And I'd go back and finish the rest of them off and dump the mummified carcass of that filth in our basement if I could, but I think I can wait. There's an ancient or two out there that would have higher jurisdiction over me, so I would be breaking laws out in the open."

"What law would you break if you just wiped them out? I'm honestly curious."

"It's an old one. I can't kill a vampire unless they have gone feral, or they've disobeyed one of their laws. I couldn't care less about their rules system or government, but I do look up some when the time strikes. I might just go out to Spain and visit the old elder wolf anyways. I've heard he's friskier than ever."

* * *

"_What do you mean '_we're going to Spain next'?" Matthias didn't seem very happy at all. He was hungry and waiting for his pancakes at a diner, and Emma was sipping on a half-assed cup of coffee with a tea kettle and cups sitting nearby. She was half-tempted to get the tea and drink the whole pot. Emil was doodling on the kids menu he had gotten by mistake, half listening to Lukas and Matthias bicker.

"I mean after this week is over, we're going to Spain. I have a feeling that we're being looked after, and I want to do a bit of jumping before we go back to Oslo. We'll see if we need to move soon after we get the latest rumors, and then we'll go back home."

"We just _live_ off of rumors and hunches, don't we?" The Dane sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. Finally, breakfast came for the four of them. Pancakes for Matthias, egg whites with the yolk on the side for Lukas, a promising-looking omelet for Emma and toast and cereal for Emil.

"I seriously hope they at least have something I can eat. Pretty sure someone can't just live off of tea and sweets like they can." Emil mumbled, taking a monstrous bite of toast.

"You can, but I'm sure that's unhealthy." Emma replied, frowning at the omelet's insides: spinach and mozzarella. She might as well be eating string cheese and two cups of boiled rabbit food, she thought. "I thought this said it was a healthy choice? I'm gonna die from too much greenery."

"You picked it, you get to eat it. I'm not trading you my yolks." Lukas had somehow found a newspaper and was currently going through the headlines. _'Football England v. Scotland – Coverage at six'. 'Petrol prices rise: Travel Tips pg. 7' 'Bremus Brewery Open House – Family Brews Open to Public'. _Usually something about beer wouldn't catch Lukas's eye, but the picture and the surname was what got him. Three young faces and one elder face that looked a bit out of place amongst all the others. Thank goodness it was front page, otherwise the red-auburn hair wouldn't have shown through.

"...Matthias, do you remember anything about Bremus &amp; Co.?"

"Oh hell yeah, college was great with that stuff. It's cheap, but it's really good. Good _God_ they make some pretty fine ale." Looking over the Norwegian's shoulder, he gasped heavily. "Oh _shit,_they're having an open house? Beer tasting? _They're bringing out the good stuff._" In reality, Matthias drank mostly anything, save for the 'piss poor' American beer and the stuff that's too hard to handle, for example; American-made 100 proof moonshine. In his words, 'It was like drinking fire'.

"I think I know those faces..." There certainly was something way too familiar about the elder Bremus. "I'll just make a few phone calls once we get settled down and you get a chance to talk to Alice some. I'm sure that Alistair would love to pick up that drinking game of yours."

"What, Rolls and Sighs?"

"What's 'Rolls and Sighs'?" While picking out all the spinach leaves, drinking caught her attention. Wine sounded so wonderful, and a drinking game at least sounded good.

"It's a stupid game where Alistair and Matthias drink anytime Lukas sighs or Alice rolls her eyes. They've gotten really drunk off of it." Emil explained, flagging their waitress down for more toast.

"Yep, and one vodka shot for each time she offers tea." Matthias grinned. "You wouldn't want to play, would you, _Marie?_"

"Good God, I'd love to." Emma nodded. "I've been doing well, so I at least get a little something to drink."

"I think I just realized how horrible it is to be underage and not having a parental guardian that allows drinking." Emil sighed, leaning back into the booth seats. "...How much longer are we going to take? I'm getting tired of just sitting around."

With that, Lukas propped his head up on his hands and sighed heavily, slowly covering his face. "This is going to be long."

The car ride soon after wasn't that much better. Lukas had to drive this time, as Matthias didn't want to deal with the whole 'driving on the wrong side of the road' thing. Mostly, he just wanted to sleep. So with a hat over his face, Matthias tilted his head back and slept with his arms crossed, Emil curled up in the seat, and Emma watching tiredly out the window. Looking at her dim reflection in the mirror made her think. She changed a lot. Everything was weird and different, but even that was becoming normal. Before she knew it, she was asleep as well, her head propped up on the cool glass of the rental car.

A hazy dream oozed its way into her thoughts, the details of it smudged together like oil paints rubbed together with a palate knife. Something with wolves, greyish-blue eyes, dimly lit rooms. Someone was yelling, another crying, some blond man was dragged off until he fought his way free and ran off.

It all ended with some sort of vision. She could see hands that weren't hers. Calloused with age, band-aid on the middle left finger. Looking upward, there was something she wouldn't have expected. A beautiful face. Dark chocolate hair and violent, delicate eyes and a cruel smirk that made blood run cold. _'I think I'll like you better like this.' _She grabbed a fistful of hair and produced a long Damascus knife from her pocket, and as the blade got closer, the vision blurred more and more until screams filled the air and only darkness could be seen. _'A true seer doesn't need their eyes, right? Have fun with your little broken family, Sadiq.' _The voice of the woman curdled her blood and brought it to boil at the same time. She wanted to go back to dreaming to chase her down and do _something._ As much as she tried, she couldn't. She was shaking so badly, and she couldn't leave the dream. Rage swirled around her as the waking world called to her, balling up her fist and- _THWAK!_

"_Fucking hell, she hit me in the nose!_" That was a new voice. Emma's eyelids flew open, the bleary outside and partial interior of the car visible. Closer to her, there were a couple new faces. A delicate and quite short blonde with her hair in a loose bun at the back of her head. She looked like some sort of teenager with the lace dress and tights she wore, all paired with a patterned cardigan and loose boots.

The other new face that was being coddled by Lukas was that of a twenty-something looking man with dark auburn hair and a more rectangle shaped face. He had such strong features, Emma honestly thought he could pass as one of those underwear models for Calvin Klein. Otherwise, there wasn't anything too stand-offish about him other than the awful plaid shirt with a T-shirt under it that said 'I (heart) London'. "You _were_ shaking her, Alistair. You really shouldn't mess with people while they're sleeping, let alone having a nightmare. You brought that one upon yourself."

"Any idea what it was about?" Lukas asked, a bit farther off in the distance, handling some luggage.

"Not a clue." The fair Englishwoman sighed, looking down at Emma before kneeling down to the car's seat. "Are you alright? Do you need a cup of tea or anything...?" She cooed, bringing along her calm and soothing tone.

"I-I'm fine, really...I didn't mean to punch the ginger." The Belgian rubbed her eyes and relaxed a bit more in the seat, yet her heart kept pounding in her chest. Flashes of faces kept on rolling through her mind, and the more she saw, the more she remembered.

"Alright, I'll just pick up some bags and help out while she recouperates...she's still quite shook up and I don't think anyone wants to get hit again." The air outside was so fresh and clean. How far out were they from London to get this fresh? Alistair was still holding a hand to his nose while carrying double the luggage in one hand. Behind them and the car was a bigger-looking house that probably used to have a farm on it, but now it was just rolling grassland with forests behind it. "I do like the countryside better...It's a lot more cover than the apartment in town..."

"So you've got an apartment _and_ a house out here?"

"But of course. That's what centuries of saving can do. I've got things I still need to cash in, though. I was going to ask Lukas to do it for me since I recently gave the American Smithsonian a couple paintings and a life jacket from the Titanic. Oh, and I had a few other things in there." Alice hummed.

"You're gaining on six hundred years, aren't you? Or is my counting off?" For once, Lukas was smiling a little bit but that quickly vanished as he went back to carrying out suitcases.

"Oh, you're just as old as I am, so you should know." The other chuckled lightly. "...You wouldn't like this, though. There's no easy way out, and burning to death isn't always foolproof."

Emma had found that it took her a bit longer than expected to regain herself from that nightmare, and doodling down the faces helped. Lucky to have taken quite a few art classes in her time, she jotted down the faces she had seen. One thin face with dark hair, neatly cut but tousled a bit. Slightly thin greenish eyes and an average nose...and he was wearing a green night shirt. No name. The next one was odd. Blond hair with wide reddish brown eyes and a bit of a more rounded face. Very youthful looking, but looked to always be plotting. He had something with him—a wad of blankets that he kept very close. Unlike the other, he was actually the very opposite in face and she assumed personality. Two were probably siblings, but one had an odd haircut. Similar young faces, they couldn't have been any older than ten, but they were already showing signs of being well built. The thing Emma remembered were the stares. Half awake and calm.

The last face actually had a name to it. Sadiq. Long face with higher cheekbones that made his golden eyes squint up whenever he smiled, strong jaw with a bit of stubble on the chin, thick, short hair and dark tanned skin that brought it all together. Why had she dreamt about these people?


	11. Chapter 10: Vices

Drinking was a fun thing to do. Emma missed it, and Matthias seemed overjoyed to have beer in his hands (Even though it wasn't a good beer). Alistiar stood by and watched, sipping on his water from the bar. Emma was going face first into one of the Belgian Ales, already happy as a clam. "Good God, who knew that I'd miss drinking so much... I don't even like beer, but look at me now- I'm drinking what my dad used to drink."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Did you not just hear me say 'I don't like beer'?" Emma shook her head and rested her hands on the bar, sighing. "But, as a responsible adult, I'm just gonna have a couple, then I'm gonna go back home. Right, Alistair?"

"Hm, what?" Having been looking around at people for the most part, the ginger nodded and propped his head up with his arm. "Yeah yeah, you get your drinking done, I'll pull the car around."

"Em, darling," The Dane crooned, sipping the brew he had ordered. "Lighten up~ How long has it been since you've had a drink?"

"Bout two months."

"And you should make up for lost time~ I haven't had a drink for half a year. I'm a bit thirsty." He chuckled. "Plus, it's not too often that you've got an unlimited tab."

"Wait, that's what I agreed to?"

"You're right..." A sly grin passed Emma's lips, and with a crooning yell, she raised her ale and turned to the barfolk. "Someone's getting wasted tonight!"

From then, booze flowed like a river. Shots of rum, bottles of beer, a couple strong appletini drinks, drinks she couldn't even pronounce. As the hours passed, Alistair was looking more and more bored by the minute. He was on his third pack of gum, trying to wait out nabbing someone in the back room.

"Last call, we're having last call! We're closing up for the night!" The bartender called, waving one of those old-time school bells around with a big clanking thunder. At one in the morning, Emma and Matthias were well past the point of drunk.

"See? And you were going to be responsible. Isn't this a bit more fun?" Matthias had been taking a 'break' with a weak mixed tea, and Emma was sitting on her third Cosmopolitan. (Which had been mixed well, might she add).

"This is s much better than sitting around with Alice." She paused, "...I don't even know how to describe her, but I'm sure Alistair has a couple adjectives." She giggled, swaying on her bar stool. "Ooh, if they were here right now, we'd be in so much trouble!" This would leave such a nasty hangover in the morning, but this was a vacation to them—maybe they'd sleep in.

Looking up at Matthias with a wide smile and rosy cheeks, Emma's drunk vision led her to see what she wanted to see. "Oh my God, you got hot."

"I may be an eight when sober, but...When drunk, I'm a ninety." Matthias snorted, looking down at her. "...I think we're ready to go...Bartender, this man with the red hair has the tab—and your tip." He chuckled, waving Emma along. Taking the last bit of her drink in one fell shot, she hopped off her stool, stumbled, and hung onto Matthias. "You know, if you were this nice all the time, you'd have a boyfriend or something."

"I do, he's just...somewhere in the world. I dunno where, but we're looking for him..."

"I heard Lukas say it's a lost cause. He dunno why you're searching him out, but he'll help." Matthias hummed, finding Alistair's car before he stopped and leaned on it. "I can imagine though that something would happen and he's still out there." At that moment, Emma was just staring as he talked on before she raised a finger to his lips and made an audible 'boop' noise. "...What are you doing?"

"No words. No more words. Emma's head is starting to spin. Oh look there's Alistair!" She crooned, waving her arms. "Allistaiiiirrr!" After a couple crooning calls, Matthias joined in until Alistair stared yelling back. He said something about not wanting to drive without having at least a pint, but oh well. He'd get over it.

Jumping in the car after Alistair unlocked it, the whole interior started to smell like beer already.

"This was great...see? It was nice, wasn't it?" Matthias hummed.

"You know what else would also be nice?" Emma asked. It was like one of those scenes from a movie. Matthias looked over, she grabbed his face and in one quick motion they were kissing like they had known each other for years. "...Oh my God, we are so dead."

* * *

The next morning was a headache. Strewn under sheets, clothes on the floor and an unfamiliar queen bed with a hung-over looking Dane that may or may not have pants on. Emma frowned and looked around. There were shorts on the ceiling fan. Cursing to herself, Matthias woke up soon after. He started rubbing his eyes before looking over at Emma with the same hung over and drab expression. "...We didn't..." He frowned, sitting up at a slow pace. "Did we?"

"I don't know," Emma replied. A pit feeling started to form in her stomach. "I don't remember last night at all."

"Shit..." Matthias doubled over, holding his head in his hands. "We're so screwed right now, aren't we?"

"Indeed you are." Lukas and Alice leaned in the doorway of the room, the Norwegian's eyes cold and unfeeling. "Emma, I've started to rethink your stay with us. Your performance has been mediocre, at best. You know your material, but I'm afraid that you couldn't last one minute with a wolf in front of you." He started. "You are, by far, one of my worst students thus so far." He turned to Matthias, a bit of emotion bubbling up to the surface. "As for you, I would have expected you to get in her pants sooner, you whorish bastard." He hissed. "I'm so angry with you right now, your face makes me want to punch a hole in Alice's wall."

Matthias flinched at the other's words, pursing his lips into a thin line. He had nothing at all to say. He knew he had done wrong. "You know what will happen if you keep on fooling around like this, right?"

"I know what'll happen if I keep fooling around. I'm sorry." Matthias replied in a low tone.

"As for you, Emma." Lukas growled, casting his harsh gaze upon her half naked form. "Get your things. You're going back to Antwerp. Lars spoke of you in a way that made me think you were something amazing. All I'm seeing is a hung over mess that's supposed to be his savior. Instead, she's sleeping in a borrowed bed, cheating with a man who's already engaged."

"You didn't say anything about an engagement." Emma frowned, staring at the Dane. "I thought you two were just-"

"What, just in a relationship? An on-off thing? It would help if he wore his fucking ring like he meant it!" Lukas's tone broke into a yell, making even Alice flinch. "At this rate, I'm finished! I don't know why I thought I'd put in the effort! Maybe I thought there was hope? Maybe I thought I'd be happy with Matthias, maybe I thought I'd have a legacy beyond myself and I'd be able to die for once! I guess I'll have to wait another hundred years for a husband that stays faithful and a prodigy so that I can pass on!" His ears were turning red out of rage. Alice looked down to keep from saying something that would upset Lukas further. "We're leaving in two days. I'll just let them find you, Emma. I don't care."

Stomping off in a furious huff, Lukas took his leave. Alice stood still, looking at them both with sad eyes. "Emma, I think it would be better if you and I took a walk. We need to talk about some things while Matthias and Lukas get sorted out."

"...I don't know where my clothes are."

"Just bring the sheet and I'll loan you some. Your room is a direct path past Lukas, and I don't think you want to deal with him right now."

* * *

Emma appreciated Alice's style now that she was wearing some decent looking clothes. A babydoll dress that was a bit big on Alice, a pair of shoes that fit just right, and a loose sports bra that Alice had kept on hand. Not to mention, the lilac color was a nice touch, too.

The air that whipped Alice and Emma's hair around was divine. The countryside in a car with open windows was the best way to cure a hangover, Emma found. That, and a couple seltzer tablets worked just as well. "Why is he set on sending me home anyways? I thought I was doing well."

"Lukas is one of those people...Well..." She paused, biting her lip. "Let me put it this way. Lukas is an old man. An old man that is waiting for retirement. He wants to finish working so he can retire, but he can't yet."

"I'm not following." The Belgian frowned wider, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

"Lukas is immortal. He can die just as you can from a cold or the flu, but in his healthy state, he cannot die. He's just as old as I am, if not older by centuries. We're both unable to age. Immortal, but not invincible." Alice explained. "He's lived through so much and has gone through so many things, he wants to finish his era and pass on his legacy to someone else. In turn, someone else would pass on his studies after they decide to retire. Make sense?"

"...So he's fed up with trying to teach people."

"Exactly." Going down the gravel roads in sun glasses and a floppy hat tied down, Alice reminded Emma of a supermodel. "Do I think sending you back home to die in your own apartment is a bit harsh? Yes. Do I think that Lukas is being hard on Matthias? No. Matthias and Lukas are in a different agreement right now."

"Yeah, the whole thing with incarnations threw me off." She admitted, trying to assess where they were in the countryside. "Do you think we're lost or do you know where we're going?"

"The deal with Matthias and Lukas is that Lukas brought Matthias back from the dead. Matthias is living on borrowed time. Every Matthias or incarnation of himself is living here and now so that Lukas can have someone he's familiar with. Someone he can relate to. He fell so ass over elbows for Matthias that he wanted him forever. So, as long as they are in love, Matthias lives. If Matthias falls for another, he loses his partial immortality and goes back to reincarnation. So that little lust stunt with the Dane? That could have been Matthias's breaking point. You could have woke up with a corpse in your bed." She hummed. "I've done that once. It's not good on the mind."

"So that's why he's..." Emma trailed off, shaking her head slowly. "I had no idea." It seemed a bit selfish, but when one loved another so much, it really felt like you wanted to keep them forever, no matter what the cost. "Where are we going, anyways? We're in the middle of buttfuck nowhere."

"I got a message from a friend that they were coming to visit, and there's a meeting place that we go to so that they won't get caught."

"In the middle of England?"

"Don't doubt the power of witchcraft and sorcery. It's alive and well, just like myself." She took a sharp turn to a bridge that seemed normal, save for the area around it looking like it was warping and moving all over the place. "Here we are!"

"What the hell is that?!" Emma hissed, holding onto the sidebar as Alice sped up.

"It's like in those Harry Potter books! Just a little po-" A moment of silence as they hit the portal wall, then came out the other side. "-just run into it at high speeds and then you're bound to come out the other side!" She smiled. Emma was less than amused, having felt a rush of air past her face and an uncomfortable feeling afterward. She picked up where she left off, driving a bit slower this time. "This place is a safety bubble. Anyone who's not with me can't get in. The reason my friends are in here is because they have one of the charms I made when I was just a young one. That allows them in."

"So what, is there like a little house here that we're meeting them at?"

"But of course. And I own that one, too."

"Good God, I should have known." Down the country roads they went, circling around until they got to a nice country cottage, but this one was different. Wood exterior, a not-so impressive garden, birds nests in the gutters...this place hadn't been taken care of as well as the other. "It looks better on the inside, I hope."

"It does. And it's completely dark in there for Aslan and his company. So I'd be careful with how you're poking around. You might end up in someone's lap." She warned, pulling up in the little driveway before putting the car in park and cut the engine. Alice pulled off her hat as soon as she got to the shadowy patio and sighed lightly, knocking on the door a couple times before entering. "It's just me, Aslan. Alice is here with a guest!"

Nothing in the house seemed to move. From what Emma could see, there was nothing spectacular. A small sitting room with a couch that had blankets strewn over it, a kitchen with a few dishes in the sink and an empty plate on the table, and the stairs were quiet. "...Oh come on, don't make me come looking for you."

"Your first bright idea would be to look up, _Sevgili yükseldi._"

Looking up, Alice could only smile, while Emma looked quite uncomfortable with the man on the ceiling. Gracefully, he hopped down, landing on his feet. It was even more unnerving to see that he had a mask on that hid his eyes. He looked familiar to Emma, but she had no idea why.

"Aslan, you're a sly one, and I should have known you were going to be up there..." She smiled, holding her arms out for a giant hug before the man in front of her nearly picked her up out of joy. "Aah, too much too much-" He put her down and looked to the other.

"And who is this...? She's a pretty thing, are you sure she's not your sister?"

"This is Emma. She has a long story, and I'm sure you could read it quickly." Alice nodded. "Where are the others? Didn't you say Aleksander and the others came with you?"

"The brothers are sleeping, and Aleksander...he's smoking on the back porch again. He couldn't sleep at all last night, and for good reason. The dreams are coming back to him and his back is getting worse." Aslan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I feel awful that I can't do anything about it, but..."

"You know that Lukas is back in town, give him a day and he could probably fix Aleks up." She hummed.

"...I'll mention it to him." Aslan nodded, breaking out into a wide smile soon after. "But yes, there's tea in the kitchen if you wanted to come sit. We brought our own groceries, so I hope you don't mind." He hummed. There was something off by the way he moved. He constantly hummed, looking around a bit too much, maybe? Emma had no idea. "Oh, and I ran into Aurelie the other day. I'm happy to tell you that she's doing well, asked about you and I said you're just _wonderful_."

"Who's Aurelie?" Emma questioned.

Alice groaned and hid her face in her hands. "Aurelie used to be a relationship of mine. We went on far too many blood lusts and ended up...I'll spare you the details. The mental image Aslan has is probably too much for the old pervert."

"Oh, don't say that. I'm not that perverted. Maybe old, but that's it." Aslan got the kettle ready and put it on the stove, pulling out a few sweets that he brought from home. "So, Emma, tell me about yourself...other than the fact that you're from Belgium and you're looking for your boyfriend while hanging around with Alice and the ever-so-lovely Lukas and company." He smiled, resting his head on his hands as he sat down. Emma was speechless. She looked to Alice, who shrugged and pulled out her phone in the dimly lit kitchen. "...Oh, I'm sorry. Did I go too far?"

"...What the hell..."

"Alan can read minds. With lack of vision, he can easily do other things." Alice said, looking over at the Turk. "You could probably show her what I'm talking about."

With a light sigh, Aslan reached behind him and started to pull off the mask, eyes closed as he pulled it away. There was a wide scar that ran across his eyes and the bridge of his nose, and when he opened his eyes, they were a milky brown color. A flash of some sort of memory came to Emma's mind, causing Aslan to tilt his head. "Now why would you be remembering from my memory? As far as I know, you're not me."

"I...It was a dream I had a couple days ago, and I don't know why I had it. It was awful, like a nightmare. This woman had come from nowhere, I was seeing people, blood everywhere and..." She paused when the man reached over the table and took her hand, not out of respect and surprise, but because something made her stop. Emma didn't even have time to register how calloused yet soft his hands were. All at once, all that she was trying to explain was starting to flow through her mind, reliving the dream in more color and detail than before. His face was like stone, looking through all she explained. Pulling away soon after, Aslan shook his head.

"That dream wasn't a dream. That happened a long time ago. At least three hundred years." He said lightly, running a hand through his hair. "That woman you saw, she's still alive today. As you know, she's the one who made me blind."

"But why did I see that load of-"

"It's because you're what humans would call 'empathetic' or 'very open to the world around you'. To us, you're just receptive. You can pick up dreams and thoughts from vampires and sometimes wolves very easily." He hummed.

"Another question, though. Why are you humming all the time."

"I have to see somehow. Echolocation. I've adapted quite well." He smiled, pointing to his ever so slightly pointed ears. "One moment, though. That tea kettle is about to boil." Getting up, he leaned out of the kitchen to the back patio. "Aleks! Tea!"

"I don't want your damn tea right now, I'm having trouble getting up!"

"If you're having trouble, shift! Shift, you fool! It's less stress on your back when you're not standing upright!" Aslan yelled at him, shaking his head as he headed back to the stove. "He's stubborn. Ever since we've lost sight of Alin, he's been very, very touchy."

"What do you mean, you've lost sight of Alin?"

"Alin is known for wandering, and he's started up his own life back in his old village, and he adopted a human child. A few months ago, I went to visit him, but he was gone. The whole house smelled of blood, wolf and...it was just awful." A slate-colored wolf came in the house, holding a cane in its mouth as it slumped through the kitchen, groaning a bit when it had to tilt its head to get through to the living room. "See, Aleks? It's better for you to shift."

"...You don't mean to say that you think she has him, do you?"

"I mean that very much. I've been hearing rumors that she's trying to get Lukas's location so that she can know where you're at. She knows you're in England, but she has no idea where. If you keep around here and make yourself sparse, you'll be fine." Aslan paused for a moment, shaking his head. "I'm also worried about that young one that Alin adopted. She'll probably do to him what she did to Daniel."

"Daniel?"

"He was a young child I had started taking care of when she came along. Blinded me and then took him with her. He was only two years, but she brought him into her pack and made him one of them." He explained. "As far as I know, she tries to make everyone think the same way she and the others do. There's only a select few that don't fall for her tricks, and they paid the price. Either they're being hunted, or she left them with pain. She fractured Aleks's back, turned Heracles and left his brother to die...I was lucky to have gotten to him before he passed. They're so young, though. Still only twenty all these years. It's awful turning someone when they're so young. You're killing every chance of them being normal human beings. Having lives..." Aslan sighed, running a hand through his hair. There were a few sparse grey hairs, and they showed in the light. "...Even at the age I was turned, I wasn't even finished with my life."

It was all a heavy subject. Alice shook her head slowly, sighing lightly. "...Nobody wants to think about when they were turned. It's all painful memories."

While silence hung in the air as the tea steeped in coffee mugs, Alice's phone rang loudly, jolting everyone from their near sleeping states. She answered quickly, furrowing her brows. "Hello?"

Everyone could hear from the receiver the deep and very Northern-Sounding voice. "Hello, Miss Alice. I'm calling to inform you that Alistair is back home now. And you know, you shouldn't steal things that aren't yours." The call ended abruptly, Alice's face ashen.


	12. Chapter 11: Rogue

_A/N: Hey all, sorry for the lack of updates. I didn't like the last chapter so much so I'm going to improvise here. _

* * *

The dream in itself was something else. Annoying, really. All these dreams of possible things that could happen were annoying. Sighing heavily, Aslan rubbed his face and looked around. The house was still dark. So he knew that they would be coming today...Alice and Emma. He knew Emma from the dreams she had and the way her aura danced along the countryside.

Sighing a bit more, he roused himself and got up, pursing his lips into a thin line as he rubbed his unseeing eyes. "To think someone is brave enough to take someone from that woman..." It wasn't the first or last time he had seen something like this. Countless people had fallen prey to Annaleise, and their lovers and families were brought to arms, trying to win them back.

He had heard of humans being slewn and offered to the wolves as food in their early states. Where everything was sustenance, and nothing mattered but their rage and pain. He had heard of wolves trying to off themselves after figuring out what they had done. Honestly, Aslan didn't blame them.

"Can't sleep?" The sound of Aleks' voice made him jump a bit, as he had wandered to the kitchen without really noticing it. The only thing that illuminated his sight was the sound of his own footsteps.

"Prophetic dream. Wolves of the north are getting riled up. They sense their kin. Not surprised. Alice broke a lot of rules picking him up like that. Wolves are known to leave their kin around when in times of danger. She took him right from their little burrow in Scotland."

"You don't say?" Aleks sighed and flicked his cigarette into his cold cup of tea, sighing heavily. "Myron and Lysander are sleeping upstairs. They got to bed easy tonight. With both being eternally ten...it's not so easy sometimes."

"I know...There's more rules and exceptions we've got to make with them. Eventually Myron will grow up, and Lysander will grow more and more furious with his brother's aging. Eventually, they'll grow to hate each other." Aslan sat down at the table with the other, strumming his fingers on the hard wood. "Have you heard anything from Alin?"

"Not a sound. It's not like him to get so far away that he can't make communication. He wanders, but...not like this. Especially with Teo." The dark haired man took in a deep breath and slowly let the smoke out through his nose, flicking the end of his cigarette into the murky water. "...It's fucking ridiculous."

"Give him time...he comes back...he always does." For now, Aslan pulled out his phone and dialed up Alice via voice command. "...Prophetic dream. Keep Alistair with you tomorrow. We'll keep him at the safe spot. The wolf clan up North is looking for him." A few moments, and he hung up deftly.

"That's the third one this week...First they're moving South, then contact with Ana, and then...This?"

"Well, like I said. They took a pup. And he's in that stage where he could be changed either way fully. With his wolf genes, he's still half alive. It's crazy to think about." Aslan tapped his fingers on the table a bit, turning his face to the open window. "...I only hope for his sake that we find Alin quickly."

* * *

"Can you tell me again why we're bringing Alistair?" The normal morning had gone down back at Alice's place. Waking up with the Dane in bed, getting screamed at by Lukas, but this morning, Emma almost ran into Emil, and then Alice pulled her and Alistair to the car. Instead of a floppy hat this time, it was just a silken handkerchief folded up and wrapped around her hair, and for Alistair...the floppy hat and sunglasses.

"I have no fuckin' idea, but I really hate this hat."

"I don't know, I think it looks good on you. I brought him because he's awful for letting you all drink and using _my_ credit card for the transaction." Alice hummed. Most of her decision was made by Aslan, whom had urged her to bring him just in case. "That, and Emil, Lukas and Matthias have made their way to town, going to get groceries. That leaves an empty, locked up house."

"What, you're afraid someone's gonna get your secrets in the attic?" Alistair huffed, looking around with the sunglasses perched on his nose and his arms crossed in the back seat.

With things panning out easily, the magical barrier around the safehouse property explained, and a quick meeting with Aslan, whom was just as happy to see everyone... save for no odd jump from the ceiling this time.

"Wonderful to see you again, Alice...Alistair. You've grown up quite a bit, haven't you?" He hummed lightly, tilting his head ever so lightly in a mocking manner.

"That's what happens when you're not fully dead, Aslan. Even you should know that." The redhead shrugged in response, pulling off the hat as soon as he could, putting the sunglasses on top of his head as he rummaged around for food.

"Emma, make yourself comfortable, we might be here for a while. I was going to introduce you to everyone, but it seems like we've got a bit of a bigger problem at hand." Alice pulled up a chair and took off her sunglasses, looking to the well built Turk. "Wolves in the North are moving again. And you've told me that they've had contact with the German Clan?"

"I'm afraid so. They're on the lookout for a rogue wolf I've seen, not sure why I keep on seeing him, but all I can tell you is that he's moving from somewhere cold, back to middle Europe. Anywhere from Paris to Berlin." He gave a heavy breath as he eased himself into a chair, folding his hands on the table. "I'm sorry I couldn't be more precise."

"No no, you're just fi—"

"What did the wolf look like." Emma piped up, moving from her lean on the counter to the table. "I'd like to know."

"Emma, details for me are far and few. I only know a few things at a time. I can tell you though, the wolf in question has tawny fur. Not the usual brown from the German clans, not black from the Iberian Peninsula, but not far North enough to be white."

"...It's Lars."

"You really think so? I would have thought that if he's in Analeise's care, he'd be killed already for what you've said he's done-" Alice asked, furrowing her brows into a thick line. By the look on the Belgian's face, she was dead serious.

"It very well could be, given the situation. But what we'd need to know is what is he hunting if he's rogue. Wolves go on what is familiar to them. Being partially human, they've turned into creatures of habit, and that habit is to find familiar things, and not change that. It could very well be that he's hunting for the home that he 'grew up' in, or, he could be trying to find you." Aslan explained. The room fell silent between the four, with Alistair leaning on the kitchen counter with a cup of yogurt and a spoon in his hands.

"Well...this grew dramatic in about five seconds. Wolves are like that, though. That and they know their kin." Alistair hummed, spooning out another dip of the yogurt. "I wouldn't be surprised if the pack up North was doing that, too. I mean, after all..."

"What do you mean 'after all'?" Alice asked, now focusing on Alistair. "What are you hinting at?"

"Well for one, I know I'm adopted. Whoop-de-fuckin'-do. Second of all, I know that I'm not from around here. I'm not like you. I am, in fact, a part of the Northern Wolves. Congratulations, I know the truth." The way he stared at Alice was neutral. A dangerous stare with hers meeting his in the same way.

"Does this change anything for you or I?"

"Possibly. Depends on how badly they'd want to find me and rip you and I to shreds." The redhead shrugged, shifting his gaze to Emma. "Plus, that's probably what your boy toy would do to you if he finds you. Have fun with that."

"_Alistair._" Alice hissed, baring her teeth as she stood up quickly. "I didn't raise you to be like that."

"You also didn't raise me to be a snooping little bastard who knows a lot of your secrets. Listen here, _princess, _I know you got thrown out of your castle when you were young. Bit, damned, and cast away. You think I haven't looked over your secrets in the attic? Your little black box filled with old things you couldn't throw away?" He snarled and spat his words, and Alice's growling got a bit louder.

"Enough, young one." Aslan stood up as well, stepping between the two. "If you two have a problem, go sort it out. I don't need to hear your quarrels, and neither does Emma. We're here for her, now." Shifting the conversation worked, as the two backed off and Alistair went to the den to sleep off his light meal. "...I would have thought you told him earlier." Sitting back down, he offered a chair to Emma, whom had been listening to the quarrel at hand. Things were so...complicated. Thinking that her life was complicated, this put things into perspective. "So...what if the rogue wolf is Lars? What will we do about it?"

"Lukas has me on his black list, so I don't even know if I'm going to Spain after this. He was saying something about visiting an elder of sorts."

"Probably Father Roma and Emilio. Roma's been in the vampiric family for a long time. His relatives take care of him most of the time. And by relatives, he had a couple brothers that understood his problem he encountered and allowed him to keep living with them. In fact, they live above the family coffee shop they own together. You wouldn't believe it, but Emilio's brother is actually a werewolf and they're all fine with it."

"You're talking about Antonio, right? He's one of Lars' friends. I don't know where he'd be at, but..."

"Someone told me he was heading to Peru. Left his girlfriend in Italy. Apparently she's pissed." Aslan chuckled lightly, tilting his head to the other side as he spoke. "Either way..." Stopping short, he listened for a moment, furrowing his brows. "Alice, you wouldn't happen to know where Alistair is right off the top of your head, would you?"

"I thought he was..." Turning around, she looked to the living room, then got up and called for him. "Alistair? Allie?" The house wasn't too big, and it was too bright to go out and having a lot of sun exposure... Stomping up the stairs and then back down again, then in the bathrooms, and outside to the point where she was smoking a bit and small ash colored blisters showed on her skin. "He's not...Oh God, where could he have gone? This place is so small, he couldn't have gone far."

Aleksander loped in from outside, carrying his cane in his mouth. Shifting back into naked glory, he sighed and shook himself out just a bit. "If you're wondering about the redhead with the bad attitude, he went in the direction of the forests...said he was going for a shaded walk."

At that moment, Alice crooned. "_You let him leave?!" _

"Woah, a bit protective are we? I was listening to your little lover's quarrel and it sounded like he was a bit pissy with you." Aleks strode along a bit more and gave her a sideways glance and peeked into the cupboards. Aslan pinched the bridge of his nose, rolling his milky brown eyes.

"He's going to burn to death if he's out for too long!" Alice paced a bit, staring out to the woods with a wounded expression. "Dear God, I should have told him...he probably knows about his pack, about how they've been looking for him..."

"You mean they've been tracking him?" Emma asked, breaking the small silence that had settled.

She stopped and ran her fingers through her hair, catching her sunglasses. "I may have acquired Alistair wrongly and...distorted some memories. I...I found him during the famine, but...I knew full and well that he was lupine."

There was a soft 'Oh, Alice...' that hung in the air, and Aslan shook his head slowly. "Even if my eyes can't see, I know very well that he holds the looks of his father. Why did you steal him away, Alice?"

"It's a habit, I just...being around so long, I get habits and urges, and I used to pick up small things...Pocket watches, silverware, brooches and rings, necklaces...I would go to the old Sainsburry's and take small packs of sweets and bring them home to him when he was just turning... Now he's a half breed and he knows about his true family...He probably left and is heading up to find them by the cover of moonlight..." Alice breathed heavily, her voice trembling as she spoke.

"I'm sorry to say this, but you sound like you've really fucked up." Said the naked Bulgarian leaning on the counter. Aslan gave a bit of a dirty look and leaned back and slapped the man hard enough to make him yelp.

"The only thing we can do is wait. We can't do anything to change his mind. Consider it a punishment to you. And if he dies, so be it. He wasn't ever yours to begin with."

"Aslan, don't tell me this...Please..." Alice shook her head slowly, her face contorting into a heavy grimace. "Don't tell me to let him go, please..."

"I'm sorry." He sighed heavily, breathing through his nose.

"He's still so young, though! He's all I have left! I-I was planning on fully turning him a-and," She sputtered, slamming her hands on the table to try and make a point. "There's a way to block out the wolf genes so that he'd be fully turned! I was going to fix him!"

"Fix, or pull him farther away from his family and keep him to yourself?"

"Alexsander, we don't need your input." Aslan warned, raising his hand again. "I honestly don't think this is the time for Emma to be hearing this." Changing the subject again, he turned towards the Belgian.

"Oh no, by all means...this is putting my life into perspective here. Carry on. I'd love to hear more about how this situation is messed up." It was like watching a supernatural soap opera play out right in front of her. And as a guilty pleasure, she enjoyed it.

* * *

"_You fucking_ _what?_" Her tone was enough to send chills up Ivan's spine. Not many things scared him, but honestly, angry women like Ana did.

"I lost Lars." He said imply in return, pursing his lips on the other end of the phone, pacing back and forth in front of his car. The door was wide open to the cabin, and there were scattered remains of what was food everywhere. Beans and scattered rice, not to mention a melted and frozen carton of ice cream.

Stepping inside the cabin, there wasn't much else. The chair in the 'kitchen' had been overturned and broken down, and the door to the bedroom was hanging ajar off of one hinge.

"_I wanted him partially sane and alive, not half frozen and fucking dead you ingrate." _Ana hissed and snarled, her heels echoing on the floor and into the receiver. _"You'd better hope he finds his way back into my sights or I'll personally neuter you and chop dock that snow white tail of yours. Do you understand me, Ivan?" _

"As much as I'd love to watch you remove my stones, I'd hate for you to have to make the trip here, Ana." He gently moved the door, finding that the door snapped off the remaining hinges, revealing what was behind the door. His eyes widened and his lips pursed into a fine line. "Oh no..."

On the walls, there was no spot that had either been scrawled on nor left blank. The walls were scrawled with messy and hurried Dutch, English, a bit of French. The only bit that Ivan could recognize was a string of 'home home home must go home home home home home to Emma Emma EmmaEmmaEmmaEmmaEmMAeMMA.' until it didn't make sense anymore.

"I think you have your half crazy wolf boy back. Bad news is, he may be heading to find the one you're trying to find and kill." Over it all, there was a bloodied handprint on the wall, along with the wide and sloppy letters: **H O M E**


End file.
